The Dark Side of the Moon
by Charzzzzz
Summary: Hermione has lost something very important to her. The only problem is, she doesn't know what she's lost, or why she needs to bend time and space to find it. In a world where she can't seem to find any answers, will somebody unexpected find her?
1. PROLOGUE

**DISCLAIMER:** _Harry Potter, its concepts and its characters are NOT mine – they are J.K. Rowling's. I am just lazy and can't be bothered thinking up my own. A few unoriginal quotes have been used but rest assured I'll list these at the end of the story. Also, the original concept for this fanfic was originally my good mate Polina's. I've changed it quite a bit, however. Oh, and the title IS a Pink Floyd album, of course._

**Author Notes:** Finally, I have decided to re-post this fic! There was a lot I wasn't happy with, so now it has been slightly edited/added to/chopped and better-ed for your enjoyment! **

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**PROLOGUE **

Hermione Granger walked hurriedly down the corridor leading to the portrait of the Fat Lady. It was just after 11 pm, two hours after students were supposed to be in their house common rooms and if she was caught, especially by someone like Snape, she was likely to be in for a week's worth of detentions.

She couldn't help herself though; she had been in the library since after dinner - studying. Seventh-year N.E.W.T's _were_ coming up this year, and although it was only October, eight months away, Hermione figured she had better start preparing herself. Ron took the liberty of reminding her that if she spent more than two lunchtimes a week in the library, he and Harry would disown her as their friend. Well, Ron also believed that Hermione's brain would eventually self-destruct from all the unnecessary knowledge it had to store, and that it would probably happen sooner rather than later; he assured her he'd keep it in a vat for her on his bedside table so that they wouldn't donate it to a freak show, and as a good omen for whenever he had exams coming up. Hermione shook her head with silent laughter as she turned into another corridor. It was so nice to have such _caring _friends. On that thought, she felt herself bump into something or, as she soon realized, someone.

'Hermione?' said a man's voice.

'Oh, Professor Lupin,' Hermione said dizzily. 'I'm sorry, I didn't see you there.'

He smiled tiredly. 'That's quite all right. What are you doing walking around the castle at this time?'

'I've been in the library doing some early study for my N.E.W.T's,' Hermione said through an uncontrollable yawn.

'Already? It's still only first term.'

'You can never be too prepared.'

'You can if you're only seventeen,' he chuckled, shaking his head. 'Not that I was much better when I was your age. James and Sirius often told me I would be blind by the time I reached twenty-one with the amount of books I read, and that they would not emphasize with me in the slightest when it happened.'

She smiled, exceptionally glad that Remus Lupin, who had been the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher in her third-year, was back again. Dumbledore was the only headmaster in England willing to take the man, who was often frowned upon for being a werewolf back into the school, as of course, were all the students who had been taught by him. After all, he was without doubt, the best Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher they had ever had.

'Well, don't just stand there Miss Granger! Get back to the Gryffindor common room straight away before I…' He paused for a moment's thought, and then waved his hand in dismissal. 'Oh, just get out of here. I never saw you.'

Hermione grinned teasingly at him and continued walking swiftly down the hallway. She stopped abruptly however, as he called out her name. She turned to find him looking at her very strangely, as if realization over something critical had just hit him. He had a hand out to stop her which he brought hesitantly up to his mouth, pulling on his bottom lip slightly. It was a gesture of thought, yet wearisome thought. His eyes looked deeply ambivalent as he sighed and faced the ground, looking as if he were making an important decision.

'Er, was there something you wanted, Professor?' Hermione asked slowly, not understanding what was going on.

Was he going to change his mind and decide that she would, in fact get a detention? He didn't look angry, but perhaps he'd get in trouble if he didn't give her one. Or maybe he simply thought that just because she was paranoid enough to start studying half a year early, it didn't give her special lenience above the rest of the school.

'Nothing. Just – just go,' Lupin said very quietly, still facing the ground.

'Professor, are you sure you're all right?' Hermione asked uncertainly; this was extremely strange behaviour for the man she had known to always have the answer to a problem. Sure, he had been a little unstable since Sirius' death, but he _never_ let it show – everyone knew that. Frankly, it worried her.

He didn't answer but bleakly put his face in his hands, running his fingers through his hair.

'P – Professor Lupin?' she said timidly, taking a step towards him.

'Just go Hermione, you're late!' he almost shouted, causing her to jump back with a start.

Giving him one last look of alarm, she wasted no time and ran down the corridor, not knowing that he was watching her every step.

--

_How odd,_ thought Hermione as she walked along the corridor, and she had seen a fair lot of odd things in her time. Never had Professor Lupin looked so lost, nor had she ever heard him raise his voice for no reason. Maybe he had forgotten to take his werewolf potion and was just having outbursts.

_No,_ she reckoned, _it wouldn't have side effects like that. _

She made a mental note to inform Harry and Ron about it as she neared the entrance of Gryffindor Tower. She was almost at the portrait of the Fat Lady when something colourful in the midst of the dark and gloomy hallway caught her attention. Forgetting about Lupin, she stopped and looked at it intriguingly.

It appeared to be a painting of a grandfather clock. It stretched out vertically but was as narrow as a full body-length mirror. The many paints and swirls of iridescent colours were bleeding into each other animatedly, giving it the impression of melting ice-cream. However, it had a feeling of intense reality that Hermione couldn't fathom. It was almost like an image, a multidimensional projection poking out of a wall. Another strange happening tonight - she had never seen nor heard talk of this painting before. She faintly thought that maybe her fatigue was getting the better of her. _Once again, Granger, you've let school take over your life. No wonder you're seeing things._

She pressed her hand to the ethereal painting and her eyes widened. Her fingers, instead of feeling the solid strokes of paint brush against them, became submerged into the picture, the colours swirling in disturbance. She quickly pulled her arm away, causing the painting to ripple as if she were touching a still lake.

Hermione peered behind the frame, expecting to find some sort of hole, yet there was only the grey, stone wall to see. Her eyes moved to an inscription on the bottom front of the gold-plated frame – _Time_ was all that was written.

She gingerly looked up and down the corridor, starting as she heard footsteps. Instinctively, Hermione backed against the wall and, forgetting that she was in front of the painting, gasped as she fell directly through it.

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**A/N:** I'd love a REVIEW, even if you hate the story with all your heart and soul, I'd be delighted to hear about it!

Also, I'm a bit music freak, so I'll probably end up throwing around some random song names that inspired different chapters. This time it is ...

The Day I Tried to Live - Soundgarden


	2. A Black and White Universe

**Chapter 1 – A Black and White Universe**

Hermione felt a great spinning sensation, a warmth like none she had ever felt before was flowing through her body. She was being tossed and turned and she was falling, falling into oblivion. Eventually she could comprehend being pulled sharply backwards in a way that she hadn't since her third year. All that she could see at every angle was a sea of dangerously bright colours until – THUD.

_Okay, now I know I've lost it, _she thought acerbically to herself. _That, or I somehow got high on pumpkin juice … oh help. _

She contented herself with lying motionless for a moment, still seeing the twirling colours in her head. Her eyeballs were aching as if she'd just been staring into a very bright light. After finally confirming to herself that she wasn't actually dead, Hermione slowly opened her eyes and pushed herself off the ground.

Had she passed out? Looking around, she saw that she had not in fact moved at all - she was in exactly the same corridor as a minute ago. She turned confusedly to the wall – that was what was different, the painting had disappeared. Hermione, still not quite sure of what had happened, looked around again. This time, she realized the corridor itself looked slightly different somehow. It had an odd feel to it, almost as if she were in a different country which, Hermione reminded herself, was not possible as Apparition was unfeasible within the contains of Hogwarts. Still, something certainly wasn't right.

The lanterns that were attached to the walls looked less grubby – they glowed brighter even, and one of the suits of armour that usually stood a few metres down the hall was missing. Hermione, ever the acute observer, felt a wave of cold rush over her, or was it just a sudden draught absconding through the corridor? She turned around as she heard footsteps sound behind her. Standing before her was a boy of around her age, with greasy black hair, a hooked nose and a foul expression on his face. _Oh my God …_

'_Snape?_' she said incredulously.

The boy narrowed his eyes suspiciously. 'How did youknow my name?' he said in an oily voice that matched his skin in a disturbing and repulsive way.

Then it hit her as if she'd been punched in the stomach, and she immediately felt beads of cold sweat running down the back of her neck.

'What's the year?' Hermione said quickly, afraid of what the answer would be.

'The year,' he repeated brusquely. 'Are you mad girl, or are you just trying to waste my time with your pointless questions?'

'Just tell me, please.'

'If you're that dim-witted, it's 1977.'

Hermione's head began ringing, how could this be possible without a Time-Turner? The painting must have been some form of portal and now – now she was staring into the face of her seventeen year-old Potions master. When was she going to go back, _how _was she going to go back … dim-witted?

'Hello? Hello!'

She looked back up at him warily, coming out of what must have been a shocked daze. 'S-sorry, what?' she answered shakily.

'I said, are you _new?_' Snape repeated in an agitated tone.

'Er, yes,' she lied. She felt wobbly, like her knees were going to buckle at any given moment. Snape seemed to notice, and was looking rather amused. She backed against the wall for support, trying to control her now rapid breathing. This wasn't like her, Hermione Granger never panicked.

'Well, I'm glad we met,' he cooed, and she blindly felt him move closer towards her. 'What did you say your name was?'

His nose was now barely an inch from hers, she could see the grease secreting from it; throwing up didn't sound like a bad option. Oh, was this some sort of horrible nightmare? Whatever drugs she was on – she didn't like them. Fuck, she was never drinking pumpkin juice again. She tried to edge across the wall out of Snape's reach but before she could move an inch, he shot both of his hands either side of her against the wall, blocking her.

'Are you going to answer me?' he whispered icily and Hermione felt shivers run down her spine – not the good ones. He leaned his head in even further and oh God, was about to attempt to kiss her when –

'Get _off _her, Snivellus!' demanded a voice and Snape immediately sprung away, much to Hermione's immense relief.

'What do _you_ want?' he snarled, menace in his eyes.

'I want you to get your greasy face as far away from her as possible,' the voice, a male's voice, said again.

He was now walking closer towards them and Hermione's stomach gave a small lurch. This boy, she mused, looked to be around seventeen as well, and he was not bad looking – not bad looking at all. His thick chocolate-brown hair fell untidily over his face; it looked like it could use a cut but really, the messy look suited him. He was wearing faded Gryffindor robes and had fair skin with intense dark brown eyes that seemed to hold all the secrets of the universe. He was tall and had an air of calmness about him which couldn't help but make Hermione relax a little, despite the circumstances.

'And since when do I take orders from a Gryffindor?' Snape said through gritted teeth.

'Don't pull that one on me Snape. Get out of my sight before I fetch Dumbledore.'

Hermione watched as Snape, seemingly unable to produce a better argument, gave a grunt of fury, nodded his head and stormed off.

'Are you all right?'

Hermione turned around to face the boy who had stopped Snape from doing something unbearable to her. Those penetrating eyes displayed concern. Now that she thought about it, he looked oddly familiar.

'Y-yes, yes I'm fine … thanks to you,' she said. Her head was still ringing and she felt her eyes inevitably well up as she recalled her current situation.

'Oh no, don't cry,' the boy said in a sensitive tone. 'That ugly great idiot isn't worth crying over.'

She gave him a small smile, which he returned. She wanted to tell him that she had just come out of her own time and was scared to death that she wouldn't be able to get back, but it didn't really seem like the appropriate thing to say unless she wanted him to believe she was stark raving mad. This wasn't something straightforward like the Time-Turner she had in third year, where she could take herself back, or forward, to where she was supposed to be in an instant. No, time was something delicate, not to be messed around with, and if she did one little thing wrong, she could end up changing the future in severe ways. She had learnt that much.

'Are you … a new student?' he asked. 'I don't believe I've seen you around before.'

'Erm, that's right, I'm new,' she told him, unable to think of anything better to say. 'I … er, I got lost.'

'Yeah, it's a big school,' he consented, looking up at the high castle roof and grinning. 'You'll get used to it soon enough though.'

She smiled and nodded. His eyes moved to her clothing. 'What odd robes you have,' he remarked, looking at them with intrigue.

Hermione blinked and looked down at them herself. They were quite different from the old ones; they had marron lining the inside instead of just black, with a smaller and less vivid emblem, and a more fitted cut. They were also several inches shorter.

'Yes,' she said, giving a tense laugh. 'It's a – a new design.'

'Oh?' he said, raising his eyebrows slightly. 'Well, seeing as you're in Gryffindor, I can show you back to the common room if you like. Just for future reference - you're not really supposed to be wandering the corridors at this time of night, but I suppose I can't talk. What do you say?'

She scratched her head; she had to think about this seriously. It was awfully tempting to follow him, try to get a good night's sleep and maybe this would all end up being a nightmare. But Hermione knew what she had to do first and foremost.

'Actually,' she said, 'I was looking for Professor Dumbledore's office. He _is_ the headmaster, isn't he?'

Hermione wasn't religious, but she prayed in that short moment of desperation with a new awakened zeal. Dumbledore _had _to be there, he just had to.

'Oh, right,' the boy muttered, a little put out. He quickly straightened up. 'Follow the corridor to your left and you'll see a large statue of a griffin. The password's _chocolate frog_.'

She thought she saw the faintest ounce of disappointment on his face, although it disappeared as quickly as it came. She was too relieved to care.

'Thanks, I'll see you around then,' Hermione said as she began to walk away.

'Wait!' he called. She spun around, as he caught up to her. 'You didn't tell me your name.'

She was about to say Hermione Granger, but being the quick thinker that she was, realized that it could be dangerous if people knew who she was.

'Isabelle,' she said. 'Isabelle Johnston.'

It was her mother's name. And considering that her mother was indeed a Muggle and not associated with the Wizarding World whatsoever, Hermione didn't feel this could have any great effect on the future.

'Isabelle,' he repeated under his breath. 'I'll remember that.'

She turned away and made her way to the statue of the griffin – Dumbledore's office. 'Damn,' she murmured to herself. 'I forgot to get_ his_ name. _Chocolate Frog_.'

The statue curved out to reveal an ascending staircase. She hopped onto the steps and before long found herself outside Dumbledore's familiar office door - it hadn't changed. She reached her hand up to knock but before she touched it, the door opened and she was peering into the younger face of Albus Dumbledore; apart from a few wrinkles missing, he looked no different.

'Hello, Miss Granger. I've been expecting you,' he said. His eyes were sparkling as they so often would in the future.

'What? I mean, you have?'

'How about you come in and take a seat.' He held the door open and motioned towards an armchair in front of his desk. Hermione confusedly took a seat, placing her hands in her lap uneasily.

Hermione was just as mesmerized by Dumbledore's large, circular office in the past as she was in the future. In one way it looked the same; littered with many interesting gadgets that Hermione had read about in one book or another, the walls decorated with portraits of old headmasters and mistresses. But, there was the odd thing she hadn't seen before, such as a furry creature that seemed to be sleeping peacefully on his desk.

It was one of the most adorable things she had ever seen and as it snorted in its sleep, she instantly felt her heart melt. Hermione would have originally thought it to be a baby goat, but as she studied it closer, she noticed that its ears were shaped like large butterflies and its white fur looked as if it had been scattered with glitter. The coat was shimmering in the dim light of the room.

'Ah,' said Dumbledore, following her gaze. 'I see you've taken an interest in a birthday present I got from my late cousin Françoise who lives in France. Its name is, ironically Frances.'

'What a darling,' Hermione said, looking at the creature fondly. 'Frances. Wake up Frances.'

'It might be wise not to – to wake him,' Dumbledore began, but was too late.

Frances' eyes popped open and he raised his head at Hermione, who wanted to cradle him in her arms like a baby.

'I want your liver,' the goat said defiantly. Hermione, although taken aback, was somewhat amused, but the evil glistening of the small creature's eyes unnerved her a little.

She reached out a hand to pat it and yelped as it nipped at her finger rather painfully. 'Hey!' she said angrily.

'Don't touch me with that skeletal hand you vulgar beast!' it snapped.

'Time for a nap, Frances,' Dumbledore said, taking a purple pouch out of a drawer.

'Your ugly face makes me want to die a slow, painful death, Doublewhor –' It trailed off as Dumbledore sprinkled a pinch of black powder from the pouch into the little goat's eyes. With a sneeze, the creature fell asleep instantly.

Hermione looked at Dumbledore, then at the goat, then back at Dumbledore again with her mouth wide open.

'It's called a Biatcheth,' he explained. 'Charming little creatures. Their aim is, generally, to insult anybody who happens to lie in close proximity - they're quite fun at parties.'

Hermione closed her mouth and raised an eyebrow - hadn't she read something about these creatures becoming illegal some time in the 80's? She didn't have time to finish the thought albeit.

'Now,' Dumbledore said, taking a seat behind his desk. 'Perhaps we should get back to the problem at hand. I'm sure this is a very baffling time for you and that you have a lot of questions which, of course, is entirely understandable. However, I ask that you let me explain something to you first and then you may ask whatever you wish.'

She nodded, taking in a large breath. Dumbledore placed his arms on the polished wooden desk and looked closely at her through his half-moon spectacles.

'Time, as I'm sure you know, is a greatly intricate phenomenon. Through my years and for my years to come, I've studied the philosophy of time a great deal and have discovered something.' He cleared his throat bracingly. 'Sometimes, we lose things.'

_Sometimes,_ _we lose things. _Hermione repeated over in her mind. _Didn't see that one coming._

'I don't mean physical things, such as objects, although occasionally what we've lost hides within specific materials. What I'm talking about is when we lose something that is so important for our being, that when we no longer hold possession of it, it cuts deep into our very souls without us realizing.' He paused and took a prolonged sip out of a steaming cup.

'Would you like some hot chocolate?' he asked politely.

Hermione shook her head and he went on.

'Now, Hermione, it is apparent that this has happened to you. You have lost something in your future and it just so happens that to find it, you must come back to the past. I don't know what it is, but I assure you that once you find what you've mislaid, you will immediately return to your own time. And don't fear,' he added as Hermione opened her mouth; she became panicky at the thought of being stuck here for ten years and returning to find that everyone had forgotten her. 'No matter how much time passes while you are here, you will return to the exact moment that you were transported.'

Hermione stared at him, crestfallen. There were so many things she didn't understand and this wasn't a usual occurrence for her.

'But … Professor,' she said uncertainly. 'What if I don't find what I've lost?'

He paused, appearing deep in thought. 'If if's and but's were lollies and nuts …'

'PROFESSOR!' she yelled anxiously, ceasing the Headmaster's singsong.

He looked at her. 'You will find it,' he said finally.

'And um, sir?' she said, recovering from Dumbledore's childish tune. 'What did that painting have to do with all this?'

Dumbledore smiled. 'Ah yes, the painting.

The painting _Time _is the means for people to find what they've lost. You see, it seeks out the people. It is a very rare thing to happen Miss Granger I assure you, but it does and it did.'

'But how come I've never seen it before?'

'It can only be viewed by those who it seeks.'

'Oh …' she said, biting her lip.

He nodded. 'Is there anything else you would like to know?'

Hermione shook her head. She suddenly felt exceedingly tired; her head had stopped ringing though, which could only be a good sign. She wondered what Harry would do in this situation. He was so imprudently stubborn; he would probably grab a pitchfork and a burning haystack, and attempt to go on a witch hunt for Tom Riddle. Ron most likely wouldn't have even thought to come to Dumbledore's office; he'd probably still be running around the corridors with his eyes closed, banging off the walls and trying to wake himself up from whatever dream world he was convinced to be stuck in. Dumbledore seemed to have read her mind; he stood up and escorted her to the door.

'I can imagine how dreadfully weary you must be, time travel as far as this does tend to do that to one. Now, assuming you are still aware of the way to the Gryffindor common room, I trust you can get there yourself. The password is _Veritas_ and the seventh year girls have been informed that a new student will be joining them. They'll look after you.'

She thanked him and stepped outside the door.

'Oh and one more thing,' Dumbledore said, now looking at her very seriously. 'Travelling through time is dangerous and the smallest and most insignificant of things can, in fact, drastically change what happens in the future. Whatever you do, don't tell _anybody _about anything that happens any later than the present time or, who you really are.'

He paused to let his words sink in, before handing her an after-dinner mint, and bidding her goodnight.

--

When Hermione arrived into the familiar yet atmospherically different Gryffindor common room, only five people were in there; it must have been awfully late by now. There were four boys sitting around a table laughing, one of them being the boy who she had talked to earlier, and a pretty girl with thick, red hair and brilliant green eyes who was sitting silently in an armchair by the fire, reading.

As each of the boys looked up, Hermione had a startling thought that made the breath catch in her throat. She just about squealed loudly in astonishment, but luckily, Hermione never squealed. Sitting in front of her must be the Marauders! Yes, she was certain. There was James Potter, jet black hair that didn't seem to stay in place and who looked almost exactly like Harry, Sirius who was carelessly handsome and whose smile had not changed a bit, chubby little Peter Pettigrew whose head was too big for his body and …

'Professor Lupin!' Hermione said out loud, not knowing why she hadn't noticed it before.

'You're back! Wait – what did you say?' Lupin furrowed his brow in confusion.

'Oh drat,' Hermione cursed silently under her breath. 'I mean Remus, Remus Lupin.' She almost laughed at how strange this all was.

'How did you know my name?' he asked.

'Dumbledore told me,' she muttered quickly.

He stood up next to her. 'Let me introduce you to my friends,' he offered.

'Okay.' She lit up.

'This is Sirius,' and Sirius winked at her, 'James,' he grinned assertively, 'and Peter.' Wormtail gave a nervous wave.

'And, since I haven't really introduced myself, I'm Remus, Remus Lupin,' he finished.

Hermione had to try desperately not to continue gaping at the teenage boys she had forever known as men – she felt like she was acting in a nostalgic film. Lupin, who she had seen moments before she had fallen through the painting, looked so much happier, genuinely happy that is. His smile seemed to glow so brightly, lighting up his eyes as grandly as a chandelier. Perhaps it was merely the absence of the great bags that would normally live under his eyes or maybe it was just the carefree simplicity of life in the Voldemort-free days. However, Hermione supposed with a sad sort of feeling that it was due to the fact that he now stood with his three best friends, of which he could no longer do in the future.

James Potter looked so much more like Harry than Hermione ever expected him to, and it was just the little less obvious things that maybe she wouldn't have noticed if she weren't his best friend. For instance, his right leg twitched up and down the way Harry's did when he was excited about something (she expected the Marauders were up to some form of mischief), and he got an almost non-existent dimple when he smiled. His hair looked like it needed a good comb as Harry's always did as it stood out at every angle in black tufts. His skin was pale and luminous yet with a healthily flushed complexion. The only differences were his rectangular glasses as opposed to Harry's round ones and his eyes, which were a rich mocha colour rather than the emerald green that were Harry's.

It was terribly hard for Hermione to restrain herself from strangling Peter Pettigrew. She could tell how much of a ratty little boy he was just by his expression. How he got into Gryffindor she had no idea. If only she could warn James, Sirius or Lupin about him and then maybe …

_No,_ she thought to herself severely, _you aren't allowed to change the past._

Hermione looked at Sirius and instantly felt flashbacks (or flash-forwards) of her fifth year. Sirius bounding around Platform nine and three quarters as a dog, chasing after the train. Sirius's head laughing amongst the flames of the Gryffindor common room. Sirius falling through the veil, never to be seen again. She looked at the ground, willing herself not to cry.

'It's nice to meet all of you, it really is,' said Hermione quietly, her initial brightness dissipating. 'But I should get some sleep.'

'Hey, look, I heard about your run-in with Snivelly,' Sirius said, standing up and looking at her with sudden concern. 'Snape, I mean.' He stole a half-grin at James. 'Anyway, I just thought I'd let you know, as much as I hate the arse - he wouldn't have had the guts to actually do anything to you. He was probably just trying to scare you into a date, or something.' His face contorted in repulsion.

'It's the only thing that works for him,' James added offhandedly, mimicking Sirius's expression. 'Oh wait, it doesn't work for him. Snape couldn't get laid if he was the only bloke left on earth with trillions of women, and the whole human race was threatening to die out.'

Hermione smiled sadly. 'Thanks,' she murmured, feeling a tinge better even though her unease ran far deeper than anything Snape could have done.

Two girls suddenly emerged through the portrait hole. One was very tall, very slim, and very blonde.

'Hi Sirius,' she purred with a flashy smile, running her hand seductively along his shoulder as she passed him.

'Hayley,' he nodded without looking at her as she and her friend went up to the girls' dormitories, giggling madly.

James and Remus snorted as Sirius sank back into his chair, a dazed look about him. Peter looked awed.

A throat cleared, breaking the silence. 'Well, we have a lovely bed waiting for you upstairs.' Hermione raised her head to see the red-headed girl standing there unabashed, her book closed under her arm. 'Dumbledore's had your belongings sent up there too.' She smiled. 'I'm Lily by the way. I'm also in seventh year.'

Hermione found it hard to believe she was now actually looking into the face of Harry's mother; if _only _he could be there.

'Ah, Evans,' said James with a luculent smirk. 'Is there a lovely bed waiting upstairs for me too?'

Lily gave James a murderous look. 'Drop dead, troll breath.'

Sirius and Lupin burst out laughing as James went a deep shade of red. 'Thanks lads,' he said angrily. 'Great to have your support.'

Lily turned back to Hermione and shook her head. 'Just ignore them,' she said, taking Hermione by the arm and leading her up the stairs to the girls' dormitories, the laughter fading.

Hermione wondered what Lily might say if she ever told her that she was going to marry James.

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**Author notes:** I love you all!

Song of the chapter (ha ha): 19-2000 - Gorillaz (bit trippy, huh ...)


	3. Books, Clouds and Rings

**Chapter 2 – Books, Clouds and Rings**

When Hermione awoke, it was still dark; it must have been around five in the morning. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and then, remembering where she was supposed to be, shot straight up in bed. She looked around, seeing figures sleeping. Lily was in the bed next to her.

She closed her eyes and breathed out, leaning back against her pillows.

_It's real, I'm not dreaming. Damn – now what?_

Dumbledore's words flooded back to her. '_You will find it.' _

Find _what_, though? Hermione thought hard for a moment, what could she have lost? It must be some sort of mistake, if she had lost something than she'd know it.

Suddenly, she had an idea.

Treading as lightly as possible, Hermione got out of bed and opened the trunk at the foot of it. It contained none of her own belongings, but Dumbledore had kindly provided her with pyjamas, clean clothes, normal robes and assorted goods that would allow her to stay for as long as she needed to.

_I won't be here for much longer though_, Hermione thought stubbornly.

The past was interesting, but she was anxious to get back to her own time and figured there must be another way to get there other than having to search the whole of Hogwarts for something unknown to her. What if it wasn't even at Hogwarts, would that mean she'd be searching the whole of the past world?

She took out a school uniform but then, realizing it was the weekend, put it back and instead picked out a pair of tight-fitting, navy-coloured Jordache Jeans, a white tank top and an American Indian style poncho; camel coloured with alternating black and ivory stripes. Its fringed bottom fell just below her knees, covering her thighs completely, and it tied together at the rounded neckline. The only shoes Dumbledore had left her were Elvis-style blue suede, slip on with a slightly pointed toe. As she started carefully closing the trunk, some traditional blue and white Puka Shells caught her eye. _May as well finish the job_, she thought, grabbing them and slipping them around her neck. Her mother had always said that if you didn't have a set of Pukas, real or plastic, you weren't from the 70's.

Hermione stood in front of the full-length mirror by her bed and had to stifle her laughter. She looked like she'd stepped out of an old issue of _Vogue _magazine, hundreds of which were piled up in her Uncle Fred's basement. Actually now that she looked closer, she decided that she more fittingly resembled a flee-stricken throw rug you'd expect to find in a grimy, laneway Op Shop.

_Viva la seventies! _she thought with a silent chuckle and tiptoed out of the room, sticking her wand in her pocket and shutting the door quietly behind her.

--

Thankful the library hadn't moved, Hermione found the_ Time_ section easily and began pulling out each book that may have contained information on Time Travel.

She nearly dropped an armful of heavy volumes when a floorboard on the other side of the shelf creaked. Immediately, she heaved them back onto the shelf, whipped out her wand and shone it through a space in between the books. Her eyes darted about, but no one was there.

Shrugging dismissively, she quickly cast a lighting charm on the surrounding oil lamps, hauled twenty large books over to the nearest table, and began poring through them desperately.

'Useless!' she cried after what seemed like hours, slamming shut _Time For Love – Concoctions for the Romantic Traveller_ and pushing it to the side where a large pile of books lay. She banged her head on the hard wood of the table.

'There has to be something,' she murmured as she pulled the last book towards her and began flicking through it. She scanned the pages unblinkingly and let out a little squeal of triumph as she came to a page with the title, _The Painting of Time_. Eagerly, she read on:

_An involuntary means of travelling through time, this painting appears only to those who have lost what they necessitate the most. Its hypnotic and abstract image intrigues the person in question to approach it. It furthermore draws the person in, transporting them to either the future or the past, wherever their lost possession lies._

She scanned down further. 'Aha!' she exclaimed, her heart giving a small leap.

_To Return to the Present_

_If one has travelled back in time due to the Painting, there are two ways that they can return to their own generation. The first and most highly recommended is that they do indeed find the lost article in question for as soon as they grasp it, they shall be pulled by the power of the Painting into their original present, and will find that no time has passed since they first were transported._

_However, there is one more way which is bereavement, or termination of life._

_If the person who is in the wrong time somehow dies, then they will automatically return dead to the present._

Hermione let out a groan of frustration. So Dumbledore was in fact right, she _had _to find what she had lost, the alternative didn't look too inviting. She closed the book and had to let out a laugh. Under the title _Time_, it read:

_Written by Albus P. W. B. Dumbledore_

_Explains why he knows so much,_ Hermione thought with a shrug.

She inattentively glanced at the silver watch on her wrist and her eyes widened; she had been in the library for nearly four hours. She hastily began putting books away, hoping she didn't need to be anywhere in particular when she heard the door click as if someone had just entered the room. She looked up, but once again, she saw nothing.

'_Relax_, Hermione,'she whispered, shaking her head furiously.

She continued to pack up, wondering if there _was_ somewhere she needed to be. If not, she should probably start looking around for her "lost possession" so she didn't end up being in the past for years on end. So long as she didn't outlive her present life in her past one, or her future life in the present? Oh, it was all so confusing.

The distinct sound of someone clearing their throat brought her back to earth. She turned to see Lupin standing by the door, looking at her amusedly.

'So, here's where you've run off to,' he said, an inquisitive expression on his face.

Hermione, who had been in the middle of pushing _The Encyclopaedia of Time _back into the shelf, pushed it in completely and approached him.

'You missed breakfast, so I brought you this.' He held out a stack of toast on a napkin.

'Oh, thankyou Profe- I mean, thanks Remus, I lost track of the time,' Hermione said, taking the toast gratefully.

His eyes moved to the many books left that were scattered messily on the table. 'Was there something you were, er, looking for?'

'Yes, actually,' she said shortly, taking a bite of toast.

He seemed to be waiting for an answer. When it didn't come he said, 'And …?'

Hermione continued to chew her toast. 'And …' she repeated, half to annoy him, half because she was hungry.

He allowed several seconds for her to finish her sentence before giving up and narrowing his eyes pointedly. 'Well, did you find it?'

'I found what I was looking for yes, but I'm looking for something else as well which won't be so easy to find …'

Remus chuckled. 'Lost something already?' He sat down on the table, looking up at her impertinently. 'You've only been here one night.'

'Look, it's very complicated, and I'd rather not discuss it with you!' Hermione retorted heatedly.

He put his hands out in mild defence, raising his eyebrows. Hermione knew she was being surly, but this whole situation was stressing her out enough without being asked stupid questions that not even _she_ knew the answer to. She sighed and leaned against a bookshelf, looking at him tiredly.

'Sorry,' she muttered.

He lowered his hands and gave her a lopsided grin. 'Can I ask you one more thing without you biting my head off?'

'Can't guarantee it,' she replied acidly. 'But go on.'

'What is it, exactly, that you've lost?'

'Well, that's the thing,' she said, sitting down next to him and giving him a challenging look as if daring him to call her crazy. 'I don't actually know.'

He smiled at her as if this was a joke. 'You don't know?' he repeated when she didn't clarify. 'How can you be looking for something if you don't know what you're looking for?'

_I was sent here by a piece of artwork,_ she wanted to snap, _enough said._

She placed the remaining toast in his hands and got up. 'I just can,' she said loftily. Then, taking reverse steps towards the door added, 'I'll see you later … Remus. _Retornare.'_

She pointed her wand at the books on the table and they zoomed neatly back to their shelves.

'Hey,' he sounded. 'Where are you going?'

'To start looking!' she called back and disappeared out the door.

_I wish she'd stop doing that, _Lupin thought irritably, jogging to catch up with her.

'Well, how about I look with you?' he reasoned, trying to keep up with her swift pace.

'If you must,' she said impatiently, as they passed a chattering group of first years that Remus nearly crashed into.

'But could I ask you one thing?' he said again, swooping sideways to avoid them and stumbling. They laughed and catcalled after him.

_No!_ She nodded.

'If you don't know what you're looking for, how will you ever know if you've found it?' His eyes flashed almost triumphantly at the sudden halt of her automatic know-it-all stance.

Hermione stopped as they reached the front door in the Entrance Hall, considering this. That was one thing she had not thought of; if she ever did find the something that she had lost, then how would she be aware that it was, in fact, that something? The book told her that she'd return once she "grasped" her lost possession, but not by simply coming across it. Oh dear.

'I suppose I'll just … know?' she said slowly, hopefully.

He shook his head sceptically and Hermione shrugged. She made to push open the large wooden doors of the Entrance Hall but stopped, a thought occurring.

'Remus, just out of curiosity, how long were you standing in the library for before I realized?

'I don't know, a couple of seconds, maybe?' he answered, puzzled. 'Why?'

'No reason,' she said.

Pushing open the doors, the two made their way outside, setting off into the bracing morning sunlight.

--

'So tell me Isabelle,' Remus said, walking casually along the grassy banks of the Hogwarts Lake. 'What is it with you?'

It was one of those rare late-autumn days where the air was crisp, the sky was blue and not a leaf on a tree stirred for the lack of wind plaguing the atmosphere. Robins were chirping in the trees and bouncing along fallen logs, the flowers were still in full bloom, students sat chatting happily to each other and sipping Butterbeer throughout the grounds. Hermione felt like she was trapped in Happy Days.

'What do you mean?' she said as she lifted up a random stone at the foot of an oak and looked underneath it.

'I mean, it's a bit of a mystery why you're here, where you're from, who you are basically. Were you planning to tell anyone?' He ducked his head behind the tree to meet her eyes.

'Oh, it just never really crossed my mind that anybody would want to know,' she said as convincingly as she could. 'I'm from Harper Academy of Magic which is near Gloucestershire, and I moved to Hogwarts because I got a late invitation. Seeing as how good a school it is, I decided it could be worth my while.'

She had rehearsed this a hundred times in her head the previous night in bed and thought it sounded sufficiently plausible. They continued walking.

'What about your parents?'

She bit the side of her tongue. 'What about them?'

'Were they Hogwarts students too?'

Hermione, who was observing a particularly dense bush said, 'No, they're Muggles.'

'Oh I see,' said Lupin, looking behind the bush for her. 'Do you live with them when you're not here?'

'Well, I live with my mother.' She brushed a tendril of hazel hair out of her face and bent down to scrutinize another stone.

'And your father?'

Hermione got a sudden lump in her throat as she stood up; she was hoping he wouldn't ask about him. It had been just over a year, yet she still found it painful to talk about the man who had caused her and her mother so much anguish.

'Do you always ask this many questions?' she said irritably.

He grinned and nodded.

'Well, my father. He … he ran off about a year ago. I haven't seen him in a while.' She looked away quickly. She wasn't going to cry - she was beyond crying, but if she so happened to let a few tears slip then she didn't want him to see.

'Oh, I'm so sorry …' Remus said gently, and he looked it. 'I take it you don't want to talk about it?'

'There's nothing to say, really,' Hermione said, trying to sound as if the subject didn't bother her at all.

She stared up at the sky, refusing to look at him. She wanted to raise her head and scream "BASTARD" up to the heavens, but restrained herself.

A heavy silence hung as the two walked along, Hermione checking behind every tree and rock, under every stone and in every bush. Remus studied her carefully, lionizing her, as if trying to figure out a particularly obscure clue in a cryptic crossword.

'You're a strange girl, you know that?' Remus averred. 'I've never met anyone quite like you before.'

She gave a half-hearted shrug. 'I have an unusual life,' she said simply. 'It rubs off on me.'

As much as she may have wanted to, Hermione didn't feel it would be wise to tell Remus too much. It wouldn't really matter if he knew about her parents, as he hadn't got a high chance of meeting them in the future anyway. She wondered if he, Sirius or Peter had ever recognized her in her own time? If this was the case, they most certainly had not shown it. Suddenly Hermione felt a pang of insignificance when she thought about the future Lupin and how he had never shown any signs of recognition towards her. She _had_ changed her looks a bit – she could now manage to keep her hair looking vaguely presentable, it would have been a crime _not _to place a few charms on it … every so often … once a week … every day. She had also grown over the years, not only by height but as a person.

_Oh well, _she mused._ It's all for the greater good. _

'Isabelle, come take a look at this,' said Remus, interrupting her thoughts.

He was bending down, holding something shiny in his hand. Hermione became suddenly interested in a cloud that was shaped like a boat.

'Isabelle,' he said again when she didn't respond. 'Isabelle?'

Hermione had never seen such a pretty cloud. It had big sails and a mermaid on the front and everything. What if she could just jump on board and be carried away? That would be nice.

'_Isabelle!_'

Hermione shot around. 'Oh … yes?'

This whole "Isabelle" thing was going to take some getting used to. She knelt down next to him and he held a ring in front of her.

'This was lying under a stone, could it be what you're looking for?'

It was certainly a striking piece of jewellery, sterling silver and unscathed except for a patch of grime on the inside that didn't even look permanent. It donned three quaint blue gems that shined like the most scintillating of sapphires on the front, and would easily be worth a good lot of money. Hermione gazed at it longingly but as she took it delicately from Remus and examined it, she felt no sort of connection.

'No,' she shook her head a little disappointedly. 'That's not it.'

He stood up and crossed his arms. 'Maybe it's a sign,' he proposed.

'That's cryptic,' Hermione said, standing up herself and eyeing him sceptically. 'How do you figure that?'

'Things aren't always as they seem, are they?' He gave a very self-satisfied smile; he must have thought he sounded philosophical.

Hermione responded with a derisive snort and flicked the ring away. Remus stopped smiling and puckered his brow crossly. 'What did you do that for?' he said, picking up the ring again.

'Someone might want to come back for it,' she pointed out.

'Of course they won't, otherwise they wouldn't have left it here, would they?' He rubbed it on his robes and pocketed it. Hermione felt a strong urge to roll her eyes.

'Have it your way then,' she sighed, and they began walking back to the castle.

--

Later that evening, Hermione found herself and Remus lying in the middle of the Quidditch pitch on their backs, staring up at the night sky. It was a little chilly, but Hermione didn't mind. The stars were speckled above her, seeming to scrutinize her just as much as she was them. While she was talented at Astronomy, she often mused disappointedly that she'd never have the true eye for it, as centaurs did. What was it that was so hard to figure about the night sky that apparently brandished all – if she could read books, then why couldn't she read the stars?

She felt Remus's eyes on her, but she didn't turn to him.

'What is it, then?' she asked eventually.

'I was just wondering what kinds of dreams and aspirations someone like you would have …' he replied unexpectedly.

Hermione looked at him in dubiously. 'Someone like me? Oh, honestly!' She paused, raising an eyebrow. ' … Is that supposed to be a pick-up line?'

He laughed heartily at her and looked back up at the sky. Her eyes blazed. 'Remus!' she said warningly.

He was smiling. 'No, no, no, I was genuinely interested!'

She relaxed and followed his gaze, resting her hands by her sides. 'In that case …' and she laughed a little too, 'Dreams, huh? Interesting question.'

'And once again, you have shrewdly avoided answering it,' he said with a note ofrelish.

She frowned slightly. 'It's true though. _I_ hardly even know what my dreams are …' she tailed off. A gush of wind made the surrounding Quidditch stands creak and rattle. Hermione shivered. 'I suppose that my ultimate dream would be - and please don't cringe – happiness.'

He turned to her, interested.

'Happiness not only for me, but for my friends, my family, my pets …' She smiled at the memory of Crookshanks before clucking her tongue reproachfully. 'It would be nice, don't you think? One day, not having to worry or fret over someone you love. To know everything's all right, and that it's going to stay that way for good.'

She waited for a response, but Remus seemed to be considering something and remained silent. Hermione laughed suddenly.

'It's stupid,' she said firmly, shaking her head. 'And selfish, I shouldn't have said –'

'It's not,' he interrupted softly.

'What?' she said edgily, annoyed that he'd ever asked such a personal question in the first place.

'I was just thinking,' he started, and let out sniff of laughter, 'that it's the most unselfish thing I think I've ever heard anyone say.'

Hermione snorted. 'Oh, what rubbish!'

'No, really!' he said in a mild tone, still laughing. 'And that wasn't a pick-up line, either, I promise.'

'All right, then,' she said airily, and bristled. 'Just to even the score, I think it's about time I asked _you_ a difficult and thought-provoking question, as you seem to be so full of them today.'

He grinned readily. 'Go on, then.'

Hermione racked her brain; she didn't actually have a question in mind. Finally –

'What is your greatest fear?'

He looked taken aback. Hermione wondered how truthful he would actually be; she'd seen his greatest fear by means of a Boggart in her third year, and thus, along with other clues, discovered his true identity as a werewolf. Sure enough, Remus's eyes flicked upwards to the waning moon, but didn't linger for more than a second before they returned to meet Hermione's.

'The truth is,' he sighed, looking at her seriously. Hermione's breathing shortened. 'The truth is that …' He blinked -

'I'm not scared of anything.'

Hermione stared at him. He stared back. The two burst out laughing.

'Wonderful!' Hermione gushed sarcastically. 'I put up with your useless questions _all _day, and, as we've just established, all night, and as soon as _I_ come up with one … "shrewdly avoiding answering" indeed!'

'I thought I was being quite funny,' Remus retorted, and he certainly seemed to believe it. He was still chuckling to himself, shaking his head.

'Oh, well, that's reassuring,' Hermione said flatly, though with a hint of amusement. 'I'm so glad that _you _think –'

At that moment, Remus's hand brushed against hers. They both flinched, and Remus cleared his throat awkwardly.

'I –' he began.

'Thinking … Moony?' came a sudden voice, and the two of them sat up as quickly as if the grass had caught fire. 'Well, I never saw that one coming!'

Before Hermione could turn around, Sirius had landed in between them, looking from one to the other with a mischievous glint in his eye.

'Unlike you, Padfoot, who always did have more balls than brains,' replied Remus cheerfully, slapping him on the back. 'Erm, speaking of which – I didn't realize you had company.'

Hermione looked behind her. Standing several feet away was a very pretty Asian girl who kept shooting impatient glances at Sirius, her arms crossed.

'So I do,' said Sirius vaguely, sounding slightly bored. 'Anyway,' he continued enthusiastically, 'what, in the name of Dumbledore, would you two be doing out all alone on a night such as this?'

He snickered. Clearly he found himself very amusing.

'Well, what were _you _doing?' Hermione piped up defensively.

Sirius turned to the Asian girl standing by herself and smirked pleasantly. 'I know what _I _was doing, Isabelle,' he said confidently, before faking a sudden look of embarrassment. 'Oh, right, then. Sorry, I'll leave you both to it –'

'We came out here to look at the stars, actually, Sirius,' Remus said loudly.

Sirius beamed. 'Ah yes,' He winked. 'The _stars_, of course.'

'It's true!' Hermione said indignantly, glaring at him. He was a charming and funny boy, that Sirius, when his fun wasn't being aimed at her.

'_Of course _it is, Isabelle,' Sirius assured her slowly, as if he was talking to a young child.

Before she could argue, he stood up exuberantly, blowing them a kiss as he staggered backwards. 'But you could have looked at the stars in the Great Hall!'

And with that, he turned and sauntered back to the now positively fuming girl. She opened her mouth to say something but seemed to calm down when Sirius placed a self-assured arm around her, and whispered something in her ear. They left Hermione and Remus alone.

'What he doesn't know, is that James and I have pictures of him and that girl's twin sister, er, how should I put it? – _fraternizing _in the Astronomy tower,' Remus said, as the two of them gaped after Sirius. He brightened and rubbed his hands together. 'Revenge will be sweet.'

Hermione shook her head disbelievingly. The Marauders were worse than Fred, George and Draco Malfoy put together. She loved them already.

* * *

**Author notes:** Ting! Review! Ting!

Songs galore: Fashion – David Bowie (when Hermione's having fun with clothes)

Call Me The Breeze – J.J Cale (When Hermione is being annoyingly vague)

Picture Perfect – Nelly Furtado (Stars and such)


	4. Dungeon Dwellings

**Chapter 3 – Dungeon Dwellings, Misunderstandings and Annoying Flashy Lights**

The first two weeks of Hermione being in the past weren't nearly as bad as she had imagined they would be. It was, after all, an incredibly close environment to the one she was used to; and after the shock of having to live in another decade wore off, she rather reluctantly began to adapt to living without her usual acquaintances. This was made easier by the rapidly growing friendship she'd formed with Remus, and also Lily, both of whom had been tolerant and unquestioning enough to join Hermione on several occasions to help her with her searching.

Classes generally were as easy for her in the past time as they were in the present - however, it proved harder when Hermione realized that she needed to play along with all the knowledge she was fed, rather than be the smart-aleck she often was and make everyone think she was insane. At one time, she had been correcting the Potions Master, Professor Tetley in saying how the use of Basilisk Fang was made illegal to use in British schools in 1986. She had to quickly joke off the remark when she remembered it wasn't 1986 yet. Another difficult feat was resisting the urge to inform Professor Lonsdale, the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, that there was no point in educating them on how to defend themselves against goblins when they had allied with the wizards in 1992.

Perhaps Hermione needn't have bothered working at all; after all, she was only going to have to do it all over again when she returned to the present. However, she decided that she should probably be playing along with the other students, and, well, work from this era was fascinating! She got to learn her N.E.W.T's in a whole other perspective.

Besides, there wasn't nearly as much of a workload for seventh years as there was in the future which was somewhat of a relief for Hermione; not that she _normally _struggled with her schoolwork, but the lack of pressure really gave her prize opportunities for hunting. She had already been through the whole North and East sides of the castle, as well as the vast majority of the grounds. Needless to say, Hermione had done a hefty and rather panicked amount of searching. The sad thing was, she had still gotten nowhere. God _damnit. _

She often found herself exhausted; the past was indeed draining, or at least the energy she used up in the past was. And one night in the common room, she was just dozing off curled up in a particularly comfortable armchair when she heard an unmistakable click. She put her hands in front of her face as a bright light flashed before her.

Surprised and somewhat annoyed, Hermione opened her eyes and found herself looking at Remus, who was grinning mischievously.

'What's going on?' she said groggily. She noticed he was holding something behind him, apparently trying to prevent her from seeing it. She sat up. 'What's that you've got behind you're back?'

He snickered. 'Having a nice snooze there?' he quipped, moving backwards as she got up.

'_Was _having a nice snooze there,' she growled, growing curious despite her irritation. She craned her neck right and left to try and see what was in his hands, yet he swiftly dodged her glances.

'Remus!' she said impatiently, as he laughed at her efforts. 'This _is_ on the list of what not to do to teenage girls suffering from PMS, you know.'

'I'm trembling with fear.'

'So you should be.'

'The git's got a camera Isabelle,' piped Sirius, who had been deeply immersed in a very unscathed version of _Quidditch Through the Ages_, from the couch. 'He just took a picture of you.'

'Aw, Padfoot you prat,' groaned Remus. 'I was having fun there.'

Sirius grinned at Remus' glower, evidently loving to be the conjuror of more trouble, and returned back to his book.

Hermione felt a jolt of panic arise. If there was a photograph of her floating about in the past, it would give her away in the future for sure. Somebody was bound to pick up that they had seen her, and she couldn't let this happen. What would Dumbledore say?

_You have intervened in the threads of time, Hermione, _she imagined him saying gravely. _Nothing will ever be the same again. You have destroyed the world._

Well, maybe it wouldn't be that dramatic.

'Remus,' she began at length, as if she were telling a child to stop playing with matches. 'Give me that camera.'

'What camera?' he asked, feigning an innocent expression.

_Aha, _thought Hermione,_ so he's going to play it this way, is he? _

_It's rather amusing when she's mad, _thought Remus,_ I wonder what would happen if I –_

Before he could finish his train of thought, Hermione hadleapt onto him, forcing him to the ground. Remus, who was taken by such surprise, simply lay there squirming and laughing as she attacked him with tickles. Hermione gave a crow of triumph as she picked up the black camera that had slid out of Remus's hands. She stood up and began examining it.

'There,' she said smugly, turning it over in her hands as Sirius nearly fell off the couch with laughter. 'That wasn't so hard was it? Next time you'll know that I always win, no matter wha–'

Remus, who'd recovered and stood up without her realizing, wasn't going to give up so easily. She gave a startled yelp as he grabbed her by the waist and easily tackled her to the ground, pinning her there with one hand.

'You always win do you?' he said snidely, as he clawed at her side with his other hand.

'Remus,' she gasped in between peals of laughter. 'You're being - very – childish!'

'What was that?' he asked mockingly. 'I didn't seem to hear it.' He started as the distinct sound of someone clearing their throat sounded behind him, and quickly tumbled off Hermione.

Clutching her diaphragm, she sat up slowly and let out a sigh. Noticing Remus eyeing the camera which was now lying a foot away, she snatched it just before he did, placing it safely in her robes. She gave him a devilish smile.

'I'm not interrupting anything, am I?' said Lily in an amused tone, looking down at the two. She was in her dressing-gown.

'No, everything's settled now,' Hermione said happily, standing up.

Remus, though looking disappointed at his defeat, got to his feet as well. 'Yeah, we were just … no,' he stopped. 'It's too explicit for your innocent ears, Lil.'

Lily snorted. 'I came down because I heard all this yelling and thought something was wrong,' she explained, and Hermione and Remus exchanged guilty grins. 'But since you're both all right …'

'Well, I'm glad you came down when you did Lily. Things were starting to get brutal,' Sirius said from the couch, pretending to be concerned. 'I was beginning to seriously worry.'

Lily clucked her tongue. 'What are we going to you with you two? Ah well, I'm going back to bed. Coming, Isabelle?'

Hermione, who was getting used to hearing this name now, nodded and trailed Lily to the girls' dorms, whispering in his ear as she passed Remus, 'I told you I always win.'

--

'Somebody likes you,' chanted Lily, as she brushed Hermione's hair. The two had been sitting on the bed in a rather affable silence, and Hermione had been enjoying the female company she didn't so much in her own time. While she shared a room with Parvati and Lavender, who were as female as females could possibly be, she'd never really warmed up to them all that much. This was partly because she thought they were both air-heads, but mostly because of all the time she spent with Harry and Ron - and without them around, things were taking a slightly different turn.

'What?' Hermione said, taken aback. 'Oh Lil, I'm sorry but I'm not that sort of girl.'

'NOT _ME_, you gimp!'

'Who, then?' Hermione was indisputably bemused. Who on earth could develop a crush on her when she'd only been there for two weeks, and was quite sure that a great deal of the people at school thought she was a little unstable?

'Oh, _don't _tell me you don't know Bel, you're the most intelligent girl in our class.'

'But I don't -' 

Lily sighed and put the brush on Hermione's bedside table, climbing into her own bed. 'Remus, of course,' she said, tying her luscious red locks back into a ponytail.

Hermione nearly fell off her bed. '_What?_'

'What's the matter? I thought it would have been rather obvious,' Lily said stiffly.

'Remus doesn't think of me like that Lily, we're _just friends_.'

'And do you want to be _just friends_?'

'Of course I do.' Hermione brought her knees to her chest and rested her chin on them. She looked down, wondering if that was all she really wanted.

'If you're just friends,' said Lily quietly, 'then tell me why he looked at you the way he did. As if he'd never seen anything more beautiful in all his life.'

With a swish of her wand, all the candles that lit the room went out and she lay down in her bed, leaving Hermione to think in darkness. Was that true, what Lily had just said? She couldn't imagine anybody looking at her like that, not even Harry or Ron. _Especially_ not Harry and Ron. The truth was, she didn't even know what she was feeling. All she knew was that whatever these feelings were, she was in no way going to act on them. If she did, somebody was going to end up hurt and she had already caused enough damage.

But Remus liking her like that – the thought gave her the biggest butterflies in her stomach she had ever had. _Why though? _Perhaps she felt the same way back; she had to admit that he was charming … and so intelligent, and not a bad-looking bloke either –

_No,_ Hermione thought sharply. _I don't like him back … Not that he likes me. He's my teacher for crying out loud!_

Another thought occurred - he wasn't her teacher _now_.

Feeling angry with herself, she pushed the thoughts out of her head and lay down under the covers, hoping to fall asleep before she drove herself mad.

After what she thought to be at least three hours; Hermione, coming to the conclusion that she wouldn't be able to sleep anytime soon, got up. She put a wispy satin dressing gown over her powder blue slip, carefully lit a lantern that was under her bed and set off downstairs. There was one place she had not searched yet and it had been playing on her mind all day.

--

The dim glow of the considerably reduced fire lit the Gryffindor common as she reached the bottom of the stairs. All was silent except for the familiar crackling sound, yet Hermione proceeded across the room on her tiptoes regardless.

'Isabelle?' said a voice which made Hermione nearly drop the lantern in shock.

She turned to see Remus sitting in an armchair wearing a frayed burgundy sweater over his pyjamas, the reflection of the fire dancing in his eyes. He looked wide awake and was holding a bottle of Butterbeer in his hand.

'Remus,' Hermione said, relaxing. 'It's only you.'

'Sorry,' he said with the trace of a smile. '_Only _me.'

'What are you doing up this late? It's nearly half past three.'

'Couldn't sleep.' He put the half-empty bottle down and walked over to her. 'And what's your excuse?'

'My excuse sounds a lot like your excuse, really,' she replied.

'Just thought you'd take a bit of a stroll round the castle then, for all times sake?' He glanced at the portrait hole she had been about to exit out of.

She glared at him. 'Actually, I decided to do some midnight hunting in the dungeons.'

'Obscene-hours-of-the-morning hunting, you mean.'

'You can talk, I'm not the only one standing in the middle of the Gryffindor common room in my bed clothes.' With that thought, she protectively drew her gown closer around her, to hide any certain feminine parts of her that might be a tad revealing. _Why couldn't I have just worn pyjamas tonight? _she thought with embarrassment, hoping that Remus hadn't noticed any cleavage that might have inadvertently gone astray. He seemed unperturbed.

'Right. And I was the one planning to waltz down to the freezing cold, not to mention unpleasant dungeons. If you're lucky, who knows, you might even see Snape, I hear he camps out down there.'

Hermione brought herself up indignantly. 'Well, I didn't say you had to come, did I?'

He smiled and Hermione suddenly felt her knees go slightly weak. 'Bel, you know I've got no choice in the matter. Let's go.'

He climbed out of the portrait hole and stuck his hand back through it. After tutting once or twice, Hermione relented and took his hand, leaving the warmth of the common room behind her.

--

Shivering because of the cold, the two began descending the pitch black, narrow passageway to the dungeons, Hermione leading with the lantern steady in her hand. She was beginning to wish she had stayed in her warm, comfortable bed, but it was too late to turn back now. She could feel Remus's breath on the back of her neck – she was glad he was staying close, she felt a little edgy going down to the dungeons at night.

'We should be nearly there,' said Hermione uncertainly, her voice echoing.

'Once we reach the stairs, we will,' corrected Remus, his voice slightly hoarse.

'The stairs? Where in God's name are the –' Hermione let out a sudden yelp of surprise as she felt her foot drop. She instinctively threw her hands out to stop herself from falling and the lantern flew out of her grasp. It landed with a clang at the bottom of the staircase that she had not seen, shattering. The light went out and they were thrown into darkness. Dazed, she stood up and dusted herself off.

'Well, I think we've reached them,' she said numbly. Reaching around blindly to find the wall, her hands landed upon a large object that she came to the conclusion was Remus. He was laughing.

'Don't laugh, I could have fallen unconscious!' She punched him hard on what she gathered to be his arm; she could just make out the outline of him standing in front of her. 'You wouldn't be laughing so hard if you had to carry me up all those bloody stairs again.'

'Who said I wouldn't have left you there?' She could almost _hear _him grinning. 'Look, we'll just have to make our way down in the dark.'

Hermione agreed and flounced off down the stairs.

'_Carefully_,' Lupin added behind her, following cautiously.

--

It was just as dark, if not darker in the actual dungeons than it was in the passageway and Hermione squinted, trying to make out her surroundings. She turned as she heard a great clatter sound from behind her and a whispered exclaim of pain. An outline of Remus was limping towards her.

'What are you _doing_?' she hissed.

'Stubbed my toe,' came Remus's voice. 'Forgot there was a shelf next to the door.'

'It's very dark,' Hermione said anxiously.

There was a silent pause.

'Really?' he said finally. He came up close to her and she could see him a little clearer, his face was set.

'Well, I know how to make this situation better.' The shape of his head moved closer to hers, closer and closer. Without thinking, Hermione stepped back. Unexpectedly, he bent down completely and retrieved something out of his _… sock?_

'_Lumos_,' he chanted, and an illuminating light burst forth from the wand he had just picked up. Hermione cringed, how could she be so stupid? Did she really think that he would -

'There, that's better,' he said, looking around. 'Don't you think?'

Hermione nodded; she felt herself going scarlet. 'Yes, yes that's loads better.' She moved to a nearby shelf stocked with many water-filled jars, pretending to examine one with a vine of Monkswood concealed in it.

'Isabelle?' said Lupin.

'Mmm?' she responded without turning around.

'Why did you step back?'

She bit her lip and turned, looking at the ground. 'It's stupid,' she muttered.

'No, no tell me,' he insisted. 'I'm sure it's not.'

'Well I thought,' she began, 'I thought that you were going to …'

'Yes?'

'Kiss me.' She looked up reluctantly. Remus's face was unreadable.

'It's pathetic, I know –' she added shamefully before being cut off.

'No, it's not.' He smiled in a reassuring way which made her feel slightly better, although she still wanted to bash her head against something hard – the desks looked inviting. Remus walked over to the shelf she had been looking at and began observing it keenly himself.

'Er, Remus,' she said, her temperature returning to normal. 'Could I ask you something?'

He grunted in response.

'Why do you keep your wand in your sock?'

He shrugged. 'Safety reasons,' he said dismissively, picking up a jar of pickled toads and pressing his eye against the glass.

She shook her head incredulously and knowing she wouldn't get a straighter answer, dropped the topic. She focused her attention back to searching and suddenly had an idea.

'I can't believe I've been so daft about this!' she said suddenly, getting her wand out of her dressing gown pocket.

'Eh? What do you mean –' began Lupin,

'_Accio whatever-I've-lost!_'

For a moment, nothing happened. Hermione lowered her wand disappointedly. 'Well,' she said, 'it was worth a try.'

She looked down as a soccer ball rolled to her feet. She picked it up, confused. 'What the -?'

She didn't have time to finish as various objects began flying rapidly toward her: quills, old bits of parchment, socks, hair-ties, an old shoe,even a pet hampster that she remembered running away when she was five.

'Oh. My. God.' she breathed, ducking as her mum's old car keys narrowly missed her ear.

'Wonderful idea Isabelle,' said Lupin loudly over the clatter of objects and breaking of glass. 'Only one set back; you have lost a fair few things in a _lifetime_.'

'Perhaps I should have been more specific …' she said sheepishly, catching something silver as it flew to her chest.

'Ah!' she enthused. 'My old bracelet. I lost this in second yea –' 

'LOOK OUT!'

Remus leaped onto her and they both tumbled to the ground as a china vase flew across the room, crashing into the opposite wall and shattering. The Dungeons were beginning to look like a junk yard - or a war zone - or even Ron's room at the Burrow. Either way, it wasn't a pretty sight.

Meanwhile, Hermione and Remus appeared to have ended up in a rather gauche position. He was lying on top of her, their noses almost touching.

'_Finite Incantatem_,' Hermione murmured, her wand still in her hand.

Things immediately stopped flying from nowhere, leaving a rather awkward silence in their wake. Hermione felt warm under his weight and secretly thought that she would never, _ever_ have imagined herself to be in this position with this person ever in her life, past or present. And, was he going to get off soon?

'Funny how we always seem to end up like this,' he said in a would-be offhand voice. She knew that he was trying to sound unconcerned but she could hear the nervousness in his voice.

She gave a cross between a cough and a grunt in reply - she seemed to have lost her voice. When she finally got it back she said, 'Perhaps we should go to bed, I mean get back to bed, I mean … sleep is good.'

'Yes, back to the common room, it's uh, very late,' he said huskily, carefully getting off her and standing up, making sure he was a few steps away.

They walked out of the dungeons, Remus pointing his wand behind them and reciting a quick clean-up spell.

'So … how did you lose a vase?' he asked as they began ascending the stairs.

--

The return to the common room was rather quiet. Hermione tried to convince herself it was tiredness from both parties but she knew this wasn't really the case. She was still mentally kicking herself over the whole Lupin-trying-to-kiss-her fiasco and although it wasn't written all over his face, she could tell he was thinking about it. Oh, what a mess she had made of things! She never meant to hurt him; she probably wouldn't even mind him kissing her … she had been kissed before of course – once, or twice. She didn't have any major experience in the exercise but wasn't completely unknowing. Oh gosh, this wasn't even the point. The situation was just so ridiculous.

As they climbed through the portrait hole the two stood by the fire, silence still hanging over them like pestilence.

Hermione finally decided to speak, clearly Remus had the same idea.

'Well I suppose –'

'Remus, I –'

They stopped as their words overlapped. 'You go first,' Remus said.

Hermione took in a deep breath. 'Look, I just wanted to explain about before. When I thought that –'

'No,' he interrupted, turning to look into the fire.

'What?'

'You don't have to explain anything Isabelle. You had every right to step back when you thought that I was -' he stopped and heaved a sigh. 'Whatever, I understand.'

She was beginning to despise being called Isabelle, it felt demeaning, as if she was trying to be someone else. 'But you _don't_ understand Remus,' she said resolutely. 'You don't understand at all.'

He said nothing. Hermione's eyes begged his to look into them, but she knew it would do no good. He was being all proud and self-preserving, and it was very annoying.

'All my life, my best friends have been male. When I first started school, I befriended these two boys who I grew exceedingly close to over the years.' She paused and rubbed her eyes with one hand tiredly. 'When we started getting older and began obtaining strange feelings, or if you like, hormones, things got complicated.' She let out a short, humourless laugh. 'I thought I had these - _feelings_ - for one of them, but as it turned out, he didn't have them for me at all. Neither of them did. So, we all sat down and had a talk one day, and they made it _very clear_ that neither could handle being my boyfriend. That taking it further would just cause trouble and well, even though I never dated either of them, they became a little too protective over me. They assured me that anyone I ended up with would just hurt me, and so they scared off any boy who showed the slightest bit of interest.'

She began staring into the fire herself.

'To sum it all up, I stepped back from you because I panicked when I thought of them and …' She let out an exasperated breath. 'And I just can't think why anyone would _have_ an interest in me let alone want to kiss me. And, as it turned out I was right.' Hermione was beginning to feel stupid. 'I don't even know why I told you all that, you didn't want to kiss me at all, you were just getting your wand!'

Remus was now looking at her, but in an amused manner. His unattainable chocolate hair was hanging in messy tendrils around his face and his lips were twitching into a smile.

'Thanks,' Hermione said heatedly. 'I just made a complete idiot out of myself, I do realize that, so you don't have to rub it in Remus. Evidently you aren't big on the word consideration and oh God, why do I even care? You know what? I don't care! I do not ca –'

'You're right,' Remus broke her off doggedly. 'You are an idiot.'

She stared at him and he looked at her intently. 'You're an idiot for not seeing what's right in front of you.'

And with that, he walked up to the boys' dormitories, leaving Hermione standing in the middle of the common room at four-thirty in the morning, not quite sure of what had just happened.

* * *

**Author notes:** REVIEW REVIEW AND THE SKY SHALL TURN BLUE!

Are you happy now, readers?

Song of the chapter: Big Sur – The Thrills

'Somebody likes you,' chanted Lily.  
'What?' Hermione said, taken aback. 'Oh sorry Lil, I'm not that type of girl.'

-Haha, an idea from my darling friend Abbie. Gotta credit it, I find it hysterical.

'Accio whatever-I've-lost!' - Yes, I still remember Polina acting this out up at Howqua when she was telling me this scene. Ah, the memories ...


	5. The Killing Moon

**A/N: **And we have some action! (Not the type of action you may be hoping for though, you dirty-minded sods ). Ah, thanks for reading this far.

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 4 – The Killing Moon**

Months had now passed since Remus and Hermione had been hunting in the dungeons. Further talk over the flagrant awkwardness they had shared did not arise, and as they were both tremendously overjoyed to go on pretending that nothing of such unspoken importance had occurred – neither of them was put out in the slightest. Christmas had come and gone; Hermione's worst Christmas ever. As it turned out, she was the _only _student left in the entire contains of the castle.

While this _did_ mean she could indulge in such activities as daring herself to sit au natural in the Gryffindor common room (of which lasted for a grand total of five to twenty seconds before the paranoia that Dumbledore would inadvertently decide to waltz in at that precise moment grew too strong), sprinting up to the astronomy tower and screaming out swear words at the top of her lungs (Hermione was a girl of propriety and good language, but she knew that it would be an insult to Ron's future self if she didn't), and baiting the Whomping Willow with really big sticks (sod it, why not?), she still didn't fancy having to wake up Christmas morning all on her lonesome. It was, in a word, depressing.

And to think that January had arrived already – that meant she had been in 1978 for just over a hundred days.

No luck had led Hermione to finding anything of significance to her ticket home and she was beginning to ease off a little, searching three or four times a week rather than each minute of her spare time. She was called every now and then up to Dumbledore's office to tell him how she was getting on, if she was having any troubles with the work or anything else of note. Of course, the work was hardly a struggle for her. All the other seventh-year students were getting ready for their N.E.W.T's and although Dumbledore told her she by no means had to do them, she decided that she would. It would be good practise for when she returned to her own time - if she returned.

It was just after dinner one evening that Hermione felt an urge to search the Hogwarts grounds again - an unexpected jolt of something in her stomach. She was getting used to these sudden impulse decisions to go to a certain place. They had all proved useless thus far, but after spending a whole Christmas break by herself thinking that she was doomed to die old and alone and in the seventies, she most certainly wasn't about to take any chances.

'Lily, Remus, I'm going to look –' she started before noticing Snape standing a short way away, eyeing her suspiciously, 'I'm going to go for a walk in the grounds,' she finished as they crowded out of the Great Hall. Lily nodded and said she would see her back in the common room.

'I'll come,' Remus said automatically and followed her outside.

Hermione shivered and drew her cloak more tightly around her as they stepped into the chilly night air. The grass was sprinkled with shards of white ice like lemonade sorbet, and their feet crunched as they headed towards the Forbidden Forest.

'Question, Bel. Are we going _into_ the forest?' Remus asked her calmly. 'I know you haven't been here long, but you should know what it's like at night.'

'Yes I know, but I haven't actually looked there yet, have I?' she reasoned, linking her arm in his genially. 'We don't have to go in far. I don't know, I just – I just feel like something's going to happen tonight.'

Hermione and Remus followed the light of her wand across the Quidditch pitch; the night was exceptionally dark with the gargantuan grey clouds that now blanketed the sky. They covered any luminance the moon held on offer, leaving no radiance except from the distant lights of the Hogwarts castle.

As they neared the edge of the forest Hermione heard a sudden rustling sound. Intuitively, she began trotting towards the bush it was coming from.

She stopped at it and stamped her feet. She didn't really know what she was doing, but her own piece of mind would be reassured in knowing what was in there. Maybe she could try and scare the creature into coming out.

'Come on,' she jeered. 'Come out of there.'

She rattled the bush with her hand, holding her breath. In a matter of moments a very frightened rabbit with an overt brown patch on its otherwise white back, bounded out and into the depths of the woods.

She crossed her arms and watched it go. 'Figures it would be nothing,' she muttered in annoyance.

A pale glow was now emanating from the sky, growing brighter and more prominent with every second. Hermione looked up at the sky to see the large silver moon appear majestically from behind one of the clouds.

'Well, that's better,' she commented. '_Nox._' The light in her wand ebbed and she placed it back into her robes.

'So, where to now Remus?' she asked, swivelling around. 'Remus?' she said again.

He wasn't there. All she could see was the grand castle and the trees that stood stock still with no breeze to sway them. Everything was dead silent. She smiled to herself - trust a Marauder to try and joke around at the most inappropriate of times.

'Okay, Mr. I'm-Gonna-Try-And-Act-All-Macho-And-Cool-While-Hermione-Squeals-Like-A-Girl-And-I-Stand-About-Looking-All-Smug-And-Arrogant-And-Then-Brag-To-My-Similarly-Smug-And-Arrogant-Friends-About-How-I-Managed-To-Jump-Out-From-Behind-A-Tree-So-Expertly-And-_shit-I-need-to-breathe_.' She gulped several large doses of air then continued. 'If you're going to scare me Lupy boy, do it now before I get angry and resort to the somewhat tacky but otherwise undeniably effective magic stereotype of turning you into a toad.'

When she didn't hear a response she laughed. 'Oh, so you're going to do the whole pretending-you've-been-killed-tragically-while-I-bystood-like-an-imp trick, are you? Well, let me tell _you_ something –' she stopped abruptly as she heard a deep, inhumanly growling coming from somewhere.

'Remus,' she called seriously. 'Did you hear that?' She pivoted in a circle, waiting for any sudden sign of movement. When nothing appeared, she fumbled inside her robes for her wand and held it out vigilantly.

The growling got louder. It was now coming from behind her. Preparing a spell in her mind, Hermione slowly turned around once more.

Her wand fell to the ground.

--

Peter and Sirius sat on the couch in the common room while James paced up and down by the fire.

'I'm done with waiting,' he said tetchily, his black hair flopping about wildly. 'This is so unlike Moony not to show up.'

'Perhaps he left without us?' Peter suggested shyly.

'No,' snapped Sirius. 'He wouldn'tdothat. Not tonight.' He lowered his voice. 'Not full-moon night.'

'Well, what should we do, should we just go to the Shack and check it out?' James said, still pacing.

'I s'pose there's not much else to do,' Sirius said boredly, though with a heavy note of apprehension in his tone. 'OI, Lily!'

Lily, who was talking animatedly to some friends in the corner, looked up.

''Ave you seen Remus about?'

'Yeah,' she answered. 'He went out to the grounds with Isabelle to search for that thing she's "lost".'

James stopped pacing immediately, adjusted his glasses and stared at Lily. 'What?'

'They're out there now but I don't think they'll be too much longer,' she said then added at the sight of his face, 'What on earth's the matter?'

James stared horrified at Sirius, who had turned a ghostly white colour. 'Jesus,' he murmured and the two bounded out of the common room.

--

Hermione stood dead still; she didn't trust her legs to hold out if she tried to move, they were shaking so much. Her breathing was now coming out in short, sharp gasps as she stared in sheer terror at this familiar beast. A hunched back, tiny black pupils amongst hungry eyes, claws that curled into sharp knives, long slender ears that would hear the quietest, most accidental of sounds. It was standing on all fours and was coated in rich brown fur, from its menacing head all the way to the very tip of its tufted tail. Of course, she identified it immediately as a werewolf. And which other werewolf could it be but -

'Remus,' she breathed.

He snarled, bearing a set of ultra-sharp, ultra-white teeth with two fangs hanging menacingly at the front. She could see the moon reflected in his beastly eyes and couldn't believe how careless she'd been. She had entirely forgotten that it was Full Moon tonight - obviously he had too. It was just so much harder to remember that Remus was a Werewolf in the past, primarily because it was all so hushed up; even _she _wasn't supposed to know about it. She gathered that nobody else knew but Sirius, Peter, James and Dumbledore whereas in the future, it was no longer surreptitious. Plus, Remus had the Wolfsbane potion to keep his human mind whilst transformed. Clearly it wasn't invented in this time.

Remus lowered his head and as quick as lightning grabbed in his mouth something that ran across his path, blood spilling everywhere. Hermione's stomach churned with revulsion – it was a rabbit with a brown patch on its back, the same rabbit she had seen before, she was sure of it. She watched in horror as he thrashed it about with his teeth, tearing at the flesh, and distorting the small animal far beyond recognition, let alone existence. He howled to the moon and rested his gaze solidly upon his next prey – her.

Hermione tried to think quickly but her heart was palpitating so hard that she was scared it would burst out of her chest before it dared to stop. She had read all about Werewolves and, knowing what they were capable of, knew she had no chance. No chance in Hell. Devouring any living creature was the Werewolf's purpose, and the skin of a human was their all-time favourite relish. Remus, clearly excited by the taste of blood lingering on his tongue, was now on all fours again and looked like he was going to pounce – _very_ _soon_.

If she ran, he would catch her. If she shouted, no one would hear. If she reached down for her wand, the wolf was sure to attack. What other choice did she have?

'Remus,' she pleaded as a desperate last resort, looking as hard and unblinkingly as she could into his bloodshot eyes. 'Remember me? I'm a friend – I'm not food.'

He started treading slowly towards her, not taking his sight off her for a second. She backed up slowly; she felt like her whole life, her last moments as Hermione Granger, were now playing out in slow motion.

'Friend, not food,' she repeated but knew it was hopeless. He couldn't understand her. It wasn't Remus she was looking at anymore - it was a monster.

She uttered a squeak as she tripped on an uplifted tree root and fell over backwards. She recollected herself as quickly as she could but as she tried to get up, her knees gave way and she sat back down feebly.

She could hear the heavy thuds of the beast coming closer and saw the only option she had lying several feet from her – her wand. She desperately tried to make a leap for it but not before an enormous paw thrust her into the air.

She landed heavily against a tree, the wind knocked out of her, and dizzily put her hand to her head. She tasted on her lips the blood that was running down past her temple, and her hand was soon dripping with it. She felt like vomiting, but as steadily as she could, she put her hands to the ground at a weak attempt to heave herself up. She had to – she had to - fight.

It was no use, the world was getting blurry and the brightening light of the moon was blinding her. She could feel and _taste_ the breath of the wolf on her neck - moist and hot. This was it, she was going to die. She was going to die without ever seeing Harry, or Ron, or her mother ever again. She was going to die without ever knowing why her father left. She was going to die, and Remus would never even know the _true_ identity of the person whose life he had taken so unwillingly. Just as she lifted her head to look into the eyes of her killer, a shape with colossal antlers leaped over her, knocking the Werewolf aside.

She heard a vicious barking somewhere nearby and then everything went black.

--

'Is she awake? I think I saw her stir!' a voice said.

'Ssh, no, but she'll be awake soon if you don't shut-up,' a second voice whispered crossly.

'Righteo, no need to get touchy.'

'I was not getting touchy!'

'Were too!'

'Was not!'

'That was definitely touchiness.'

'Well I can't help it when you're so close in proximity.'

'Will you two stop bickering!' another voice hissed.

'Now, _that_ was touchy,' the first voice snorted.

'I'll say.'

Hermione heard herself groan. She put her hand blearily to her head. It felt like it weighed a ton.

'You're awake!' the second voice, which she now recognized as James's exclaimed.

'Yes, unfortunately,' she said drowsily, not opening her eyes.

'Someone's happy to be back,' the first voice, Sirius, said.

'I'd be a lot happier if I didn't feel like a troll was sitting on my head playing the bongo drums on my face.'

'Yep, she's in high spirits all right,' he added brightly.

Hermione very slowly opened her eyes, trying to ignore the pain. She tried to sit up but felt herself involuntarily fall back down.

'Whoa, easy there,' James warned, helping her to sit up again. 'Slowly, now.'

She sat back and used her elbows to steady herself. It took her a moment to realize that she was in the Gryffindor common room, sitting on the couch.

She blinked. 'Where's Remus?' she asked shortly.

'I'm here,' said a hoarse voice.

Turning, she saw him sitting on an armchair, shirt sleeves pulled right up. His chin was resting on his closed hands and he was leaning forward, his elbows propped up on his knees. He looked ill – his face was pale, his eyes were tired and he sported big blue bags under them that Hermione remembered so clearly from the future. He also had a fair amount of fresh cuts on his arm and two deep gashes, one across his cheek and the other around the sensitive area of his eye.

Hermione couldn't help but gasp. 'Oh Remus, you look awful!'

He stood up and looked at her gravely. 'Are you all right?' he asked in the same throaty voice.

'Yes, I'm fine,' Hermione lied, her head was pounding monstrously. 'But –'

'Then I'll be getting to bed,' he said flatly. 'Goodnight.' He started to walk away.

'Remus, wait –' Hermione called. She mechanically stood up to stop him but saw stars and felt herself fall. In a split second James and Sirius had eased her back onto the couch.

'You took a nasty blow to the head Isabelle,' said Sirius grimly. 'Take it easy.'

She didn't take her eyes off Remus. In the months she had spent with him, she truly felt as if she had known him nearly as long as Harry and Ron. He was always so calm and collected, and now he looked as he did in the future right before she found the painting – lost. And not only lost but wretched with – with guilt.

'Why are you acting this way?' she asked meekly.

He moved closer. Hermione was shocked to see that he was shaking. The calmness she had always admired in him, his down-to-earth composure that he carried in all situations was gone and replaced with a stream of emotions he didn't seem to be able to handle.

'Look what I've done to you,' he whispered.

She grabbed his hand and squeezed it as hard as she could, willing it to stop trembling. 'I'm _fine _Remus, really I am.'

'I – I could have killed you,' he said wildly, pulling away. 'I _would_ have killed you if these two hadn't shown up at the exact right second, if they hadn't stopped me!'

Hermione gulped back a sob. This should not have happened, he should not have to feel like this – not if it wasn't for her.

'It - wasn't - your – fault,' she said, fighting to keep her own voice from shaking.

'YES IT WAS!' he shouted, causing Hermione to flinch. 'If I hadn't been so careless to forget it was full moon!'

He shook his head and added more quietly, 'I'll completely understand if you don't want to come near me anymore, now that you know what I really am. I'm not going to make this any harder for you than it has to be, I'll stay away from you.'

He walked inertly up to the dormitories.

Hermione watched him go reluctantly. She almost stood up again but James put his hand out to stop her.

'Let him go,' he said quietly.

Very unexpectedly, a snore sounded from somewhere in the room. Hermione turned around promptly and noticed Wormtail in an armchair, fast asleep and with a trail of saliva dribbling out the side of his mouth.

'Eurgh,' she said, despite herself.

'Git,' muttered Sirius. 'Trust him to sleep through this.' He sat down on the couch and turned to Hermione, his eyes anxious.

'You won't tell anyone, will you? About us –'

'No, no. I wouldn't dream of it,' she said quickly. She closed her eyes and resignedly placed her head in her hands.

'Thanks,' she heard him say softly.

It was too hard - she couldn't hide her tears anymore. Unable to stop herself, Hermione put her head on Sirius' shoulder and cried silently into his sleeve. He put his arm around her.

'He's not used to making mistakes Isabelle,' he said solemnly. 'Sometimes he forgets that he is only human – well, part only human. He's the most protective person you'll ever meet, and for him to lose his head and put a friend in such danger - it's killing him.'

'I've just made such a mess of things,' she said, more to herself than to them. 'This was not supposed to happen - it wasn't.'

There was a short moment of silence.

'He stayed by your side from the moment he transformed back to the moment you woke up, you know,' James, who'd now come and sat down on the other side of her, said matter-of-factly. 'He wouldn't eat, drink, sleep, talk. It was getting to a point where I was scared he was forgetting to _breathe_.'

She brought her head away from Sirius' robes and looked at both James and Sirius. 'Thankyou,' she said. 'Both of you. For everything.' She hugged them both, wiping her eyes as she released them.

'Just try and get some rest, Isabelle. You'll feel better when you wake up,' James said, patting her on the back.

'Yeah, it's been a tough night,' Sirius added, standing up and yawning. 'We'll see you in the morning.'

'It is morning Padfoot,' James pointed out with a smirk, indicating the clock on the wall. It was just past five am.

'Oh, right,' Sirius said vaguely. 'See you in a few hours then.'

She managed to release a small laugh before bidding them goodnight. Once they had disappeared from sight, she closed her eyes and instantly fell asleep.

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**A/N: **More fun to come, chum.

Thanks, reviewers. You are all wonderful.

Song: The Killing Moon – Echo & The Bunnymen (but, of course)

Oh, and for all those who have problems with my Rubik's cube, I have one thing to say about that: I. Don't. Care. If you like, we can make it so that they came out in the Wizarding World before hitting London Muggles in 1980. Sheesh ...


	6. A Real Gentleman, Eh?

**A/N: **Hermione wears pink earmuffs, another fluffy occurrence springs up and James fans -here's your moment. God, I love that guy ...

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**Chapter 5 – A Real Gentleman, Eh?**

Hermione woke up feeling miserable. After a mere _hour_ of sleep, she had been stirred by a house elf that had come to relight the fire and tidy the common room. Grumpily she'd ambled up to her dormitory, and, knowing she wouldn't get back to sleep, had a much needed shower.

When she looked in the mirror a pale, wearisome face looked back at her. Her lips were chapped and her hair was frizzing up badly. She wondered where the energetic, healthily flushed Hermione she remembered had gone. No wonder Remus constantly looked so drained; all those late nights transforming.

'Poor thing,' she said aloud, shaking her head sadly.

Her physical state, while colourful, was not too serious; the pounding of her head had discontinued although it still tinged every so often. She undressed to take a shower and nearly screamed.

'I'm hideous!' was her initial thought.She couldn't help but recoil as she inspected her newly discoloured body. All joints seemed to be moving without too much effort apart from a badly twisted left wrist, but it didn't even compare to her physical turnout. A tennis-ball graze was oozing pus on each once cream-porcelain knee, an array of bruises of all shapes and shades was glowing proudly on her body, and an impressive burgundy wound was dried up like spilt wine on the side of her head.

While considering the fun she could have arriving at breakfast looking like she'd fallen down a few flights of stairs on the way, having excelled in medical magic since fourth year, Hermione knew it would be absurd of her not to heal them herself. She fumbled about for her wand before realizing with a start it wasn't there.

_Oh no, _she thought frantically,_ I must have left it in the grounds!_

She arranged her hair into a messy bun, threw on some clothes, seized a fluffy pair of pink earmuffs she had received from Lily for Christmas and raced down to the grounds, almost crashing headlong into a suit of armour that was walking in completely random directions through the corridors.

'Watch it, Lovey!' it shouted at her as she raced past it, nearly knocking it off balance.

She bounded across the frosty Quidditch Pitch, stopping halfway to catch her breath and nurse a stitch in her side. The sun had not even risen yet, now only a dull pre-dawn glow surrounded her. At least she could still see - just.

Hermione wrapped her arms around herself and shivered as she reached the clearing just before the Forbidden Forest, where all the drama had occurred the previous night. She scowled as she rubbed her hands together vigorously; she had never been a morning person, much rather preferring to stay up late reading a good book and sleeping in the next morning. It was far too cold at this hour, anyway - the birds weren't even chirping.

Hermione adjusted her earmuffs and began scanning the ground with the utmost care. She stood up very quickly when she stepped on a dark patch in the grass that looked very much like blood - whose blood, she didn't know. Still, there was no sign of her wand.

_Well, it could be worse, _she told herself._ At least I _know_ what I'm looking for this time. _

That brought her to another train of thought. Half a school year had passed already - it was astounding how fleetingly it had gone. Hermione had not felt a single second of connection or closeness to finding whatever in Merlin's name it was that she had lost, not one _moment _in all the time she had spent in this foreign yet familiar world. She was beginning to worry that the fear she had initially felt when she first arrived would come to pass – that she would never leave.

It wasn't a case of her hating life in the past; she was finding it surprisingly enjoyable. But it was not where she was supposed to be and that made her uneasy, like she'd come down with some incurable disease, or start being erased one day out of the blue. Anything could happen; that much, she knew for certain.

Sure, she had made friends; three of which were dead in her time and the other whose life was steadily growing worse. She probably should have initially considered becoming a recluse and moving into the Forbidden Forest to live. It would be her redoubt against a world she plainly didn't belong in. Who'd remember her there in the future, the spiders? At least she'd be of no trouble to anyone, except perhaps herself. She felt not one step closer to getting home and while she had all the time in the world, she had a gutted feeling that it was running out.

She gave a groan of frustration and leant against a tree. It was no use; her wand was nowhere to be seen. She suddenly had a startling thought: what if Remus ate it? Then she'd be in trouble.

She desperately looked around again and did a double take as she noticed someone walking across the Quidditch Pitch, towards the lake on the other side. She squinted hard and made out that it was a boy who was wearing a Gryffindor scarf and had his hands immersed in the pockets of dark trousers.

Giving one last good look of the area she began treading swiftly after him, now, of course, recognizing who it was. He disappeared behind a clump of trees and Hermione, soon reaching them herself followed him silently.

'Good morning James,' she said as she emerged onto the bank, removing her earmuffs.

He was standing at the edge of the icy lake, where she and Remus had many times before, looking distractedly into the distance. He turned around with great speed when she spoke, but soon relaxed upon recognition.

'It's only you, Isabelle,' he said without much expression, and turned back to the lake. 'You scared me.'

Hermione gasped melodramatically. 'James Potter admitting he's scared. And I half expected you to hex me instead.'

'Hmm …' he sighed, apparently not hearing her words nor feeling inclined to discuss the hardly quotidian occurrence of the two of them being out in the grounds together at dawn. Hermione flicked the back of his head.

'Ow!' he exclaimed angrily, turning to her at last. 'What was that for?'

'Sorry to bring you back to earth,' she said brazenly. 'What were you thinking about anyway? You looked a million miles away.'

She stepped up beside him, following his gaze out beyond the calm waters to the unabatedly pellucid far-off hills. Neither represented her increasingly cloyed life, nor her inherent need for omniscience in any respect. Water remained as tranquil and as delicate as a baby lamb; only ever rippling when disturbed; never errant. And such affable hills: as copasetic as they were predictable; withstanding the most turbulent of storms.

The sun was progressively rising behind them, its rich orange hue immersed in the rose and violet splendour that was the dawning sky. She breathed out in wonderment.

'Pretty, isn't it?' he sighed, uncontrollable tresses jutting out in all directions. 'Just like her.'

Hermione faced him; he had resumed staring outwards almost longingly. His complexion was so ethereal, so innocent. Underneath his tough man act she had speculated over the past months, he was just a boy. Hermione still found it remarkable how much he resembled Harry.

'Who?' she questioned him.

'Lillian Evans,' he said breathlessly.

Of course! Hermione felt a paroxysm of excitement when she remembered that it must have been around this time that he and Lily got together. Why, it was only several years later that they had Harry - and only several years before they were both murdered by Voldemort …

She shuddered involuntarily; it was all so surreal – almost as if she had befriended the dead. But now was not the time to become maudlin over what was inevitable. Even if she had planned on changing the future, she knew that dire consequences would surely supervene: people never being born, certain things never being discovered. If horrific events never occurred, then how would the world ever learn?

'I ... I don't know what to say,' Hermione chirped gleefully. 'Have you asked her out yet?'

'Oh, plenty of times,' he said sullenly, eyeing the ground. Then, looking up to the sky he let out a small humourless laugh. 'She hates me.'

'No, she doesn't!' Hermione said zealously. Then after a moment added with the same enthusiasm, 'She just - really - doesn't _like_ you.'

This somehow didn't seem to bring up his spirits. He sighed again and flopped down on the grass, Hermione following suit. She hated to be the bearer of bad news, but Lily did constantly rave about how self-centred and vindictive he was; how he always expected her to go out with him just because he was popular. She had even said to Hermione that he was "the most pestiferous, not to mention _arrogant_ pig I've ever had the misfortune to meet!"

Hermione, remembering saying something along the same lines to Ron in her fifth year, didn't think it would be a good idea to pass on Lily's _specific_ opinion to James. He was clearly smitten.

Groaning helplessly, James tore his fingers through his hair.

'What is it that you like about her?' Hermione inquired, her tone sympathetic.

'She's just so …' he flung his hands about, searching for the right words, 'so _different_ from other girls. She's not only smart, beautiful, nice – well, not to me,' he added dryly. 'But she's got this fiery personality that never wavers. She isn't shy in front of anyone, she's never prejudice and _man _she has a nice arse …' He paused then put in hastily, 'But don't tell her I said that.'

Unable to stop herself, Hermione burst into a cyclone of laughter. Before long she had her head in her hands, rocking back and forth uncontrollably.

'Isabelle, don't,' James said crossly. She brought her head up.

'Oh, I'm sorry James,' she gasped, not sounding sorry at all. 'But you _are_ hopeless; utterly, _utterly_ hopeless.'

She stopped for a moment, then, looking at James, snorted into her hands again, and continued to shake with merriment. She felt like a hyena, or a banshee, or a cross between the two, but she couldn't help herself - it was too ironic; Lily and James were both so _stupid_. If only they knew that they would end up baring a child together, her best friend at that!

James looked offended for a moment, but soon his mouth began twitching into a reluctant smile. Hermione, who was now rolling around on the ground with tears streaming down her face, was struggling to breathe. Soon James was rolling with her, overtaken himself by the contagious urge to just _laugh. _

When the two had finally caught their breath and the hysteria had receded, Hermione gave a last titter before looking at James seriously. 'What I said before … it isn't really true, you know.'

He flung down onto the grass tersely and looked up at her dubiously. 'You're not having me on?'

She twirled a lock of her thick hair, thinking carefully about what she was going to say. She didn't want to lead him on, but she didn't want to deter him either. All she need do was tell him her gut feeling.

'Part of it is true,' she began slowly, 'because a part of her can't _stand_ you. But,' she added quickly at his expression, 'I believe that as much as she wants to hate you, she can't help being drawn to you, she can't help liking you a little.' Hermione grinned. 'She doesn't shut up about you at any rate.'

'So why won't she go out with me?' James growled in frustration, staring at the clouds rolling lazily by above them. The sun had fully risen, casting a rich morning glaze over them as if it were icing a cake.

'Because you really don't know how to act around girls!' Hermione blurted out before she could stop herself. She had always been bluntly honest and really, he was better off knowing.

James' eyes very nearly popped out of their sockets. He looked dumbfounded.

'Wha – how could you even assume – I do _so _know how to act around girls!' he spluttered indignantly, sitting up again. 'I'm gorgeous for God's sake; I get girls after me all the time.'

'Dear, dear James,' Hermione said in a condescending manner. 'That's the trouble with you. You think you know an awful lot of things but really, it's only your looks and momentary charm that catch you your _flings_.

But realistically, if you ever want any hope of getting into a serious relationship or, putting it more specifically, getting one of the few girls that you can't have, then you'll need to realize that there is so much more to us than breasts. We're a lot more complicated, I assure you.'

'I'll say,' he said touchily.

'So if you want Lily to like you, and I mean _really _like you, then you'll have to put in some effort like a real gentleman.'

'But I don't know _how _to be a real gentleman,' he protested.

Hermione stood up and stretched indolently. 'Then you'll just have to learn.'

She began walking off. It was nearly seven o'clock and she was feeling peckish. She heard James groan and jog up to her, putting a firm hand on her shoulder to stop her.

'Look,' he said heavily. 'You. Would _you_ teach me?'

'What?' Hermione said, caught off-guard.

'To be,' he looked anxiously around and lowered his voice, 'a – a gentleman.'

'God, you are desperate,' Hermione muttered. She grimaced, exhaling apprehensively. 'I don't think it would be a good idea James, you _can_ work it out yourself, you know –'

'Please,' he interrupted. 'I've never felt like this about anyone before; it's killing me but making me feel alive at the same time.' He cringed at his last words, but continued determinedly. 'I – just – want – her - to like me. She doesn't have to love me, just like me.'

Hermione laughed. 'Hmm, getting her to like you might be even harder than getting her to love you,' She stopped when she looked into James' eyes, pleading to her behind his spectacles; there was that boyish, handsomely naïve look about him again.

Oh, what did she have to lose? Surely helping James and Lily get together couldn't hurt - they were supposed to get together anyway. Maybe she was destined to do it, if you believed in that sort of thing. Now it was her turn to groan, not in frustration but in yieldingness.

'Okay, okay. I'll help you,' she said with difficulty.

James brightened. 'I appreciate it,' he said, and meant it. 'But could you promise me one thing?'

'Mm?'

'Don't – tell anyone about this, especially not Remus or Sirius.' He cleared his throat and said in an undertone,

'They'd never let me hear the end of it.'

Hermione beamed at him. 'You have my word on it.'

--

Hermione was told in full detail what happened when she had fallen out cold the night before by James at breakfast. The barking she had heard was Sirius (who, of course, was an Animagus and could transform into a dog) getting the wolf's attention. James (a stag Animagus) had then leapt onto Remus, knocking him about with his antlers. While James kept Remus busy, Sirius had quickly transformed back into a human, grabbed the biggest stick he could find and knocked Remus on the head, sending him into unconsciousness.

They had kept Hermione warm with their jackets, which she thought very courteous of them, while waiting for Remus to change back. When the moon disappeared behind a cloud and Remus awoke as a human, they explained everything to him. Horrified, he helped them carry her back up to the deserted common room.

Hermione rubbed her forehead warily and looked down the Gryffindor table. Remus, who was sitting with Sirius, was pretending to be immersed in a school book - it was upside down. His eyes kept shooting glances at them, but when she tried to catch them, he just looked away.

Gloomily, Hermione used her fork to toy with the remainders of her meal, compressing her poached eggs into a glum mess on her plate. She realized this must have been how she felt - a glum mess, a friggin' glum mess at brekkie time.

When breakfast was over and the students started pouring out of the Great Hall, Hermione lagged behind Remus. When he turned into the corridor that led to the common room she grabbed the back of his robes and pulled him into a deserted classroom, ignoring his exclaim of surprise and shutting the door hard.

She turned to face him, crossing her arms. His expression was dead beat, his hair unkempt and his skin pale. 'Isabelle, what are you doing?'

'I'm trying to knock some sense into that head of yours,' she huffed. 'Before you lose it.'

'Just leave me a -' 

'No, _you _listen,' she said a little louder than she meant to, 'and for God's sake look at me!'

He stood very silent and very still, and brought his tired eyes to her determined ones.

'I'm not going to make a huge speech because I'm not big on that sort of thing, plus, I'm far too - for lack of a better word - hung over, but let me get this out.' She bit her bottom lip.

'You're my … best friend here, and have been since the first day I arrived. You've kept me sane, well, as sane as I can be and … I can't - _thank _youenough for all that you've done for me, all this time you've spent with me looking for _fucking _shit-all.'

Remus' eyes flickered with surprise, he obviously wasn't used to hearing Hermione swear. It was a beautiful sound.

'And you hardly know me but I've known you,' she stopped herself and rolled her eyes, 'I _feel _as if I've known you, for so much longer. And really, as much as I hate to sound painstakingly cliché, I _do _care about you and couldn't bare it if you stopped talking to me,' Hermione caught her breath. '_Regardless _of what you are.'

She suddenly felt very hot and bothered, as if she had just finished a race; whether she had won or lost, she wasn't sure.

She took a step towards Remus and stared at him. His state had not improved much from the previous night, he still sported several gashes and bruises.

'Please go to the hospital wing Remus. You look like a discombobulated zombie that's tried to kill itself multiple times in multiple ways and still hasn't managed to succeed, despite the fact that technically, it's already dead.' Hermione paused and blinked. 'Where did I pull that analogy from?'

'I can't.' He shrugged half-heartedly. 'It would mean I'd have to give Sirius and James away, and they're not registered Animagi - not to mention the trouble that you would get in. Besides, I wouldn't want to have them healed anyway,' he scowled. 'This way, I'll be reminded not to be so fucking careless again.'

'Stop being so hard on yourself,' she said curtly. 'It's not accomplishing anything.'

'What about you then, why didn't you go to the nurse?' he said coolly, eyeing her own souvenirs of the night before.

_Blast_, she thought to herself. She had forgotten all about her wand. 'I was going to fix them myself,' she answered promptly. 'I just can't find my wand.'

'Oh!' he exclaimed, looking annoyed at himself. He fumbled about his robes and removed none other than the item in question. 'I'd completely forgotten about it,' he said, handing it to her. 'I picked it up for you last night.'

'Thanks,' she murmured.

They stood in momentary silence, each looking diffidently at one another, waiting for the other person to speak.

'Remus, _will_ you let me heal those for you?' Hermione asked ruefully, looking at his wounds with concern. 'There really isn't any point in leaving them there; you're going to remember last night even if you aren't crippled for it.'

He breathed in resignedly. Looking at the ground, then at her, he slowly nodded. Relieved, yet strangely nervous, she moved closer to him. 'Close your eyes,' she said softly. 'I won't hurt you, I promise.'

'I know. I trust you,' he said, doing as he was told.

She took a deep breath. Pushing some loose strands of hair behind his ear, she gently placed the tip of her wand to the gash on his eyelid and muttered the healing spell. A soft yellow glow lit up the cut and in a moment it was no longer there. Remus kept his eyes closed as she did the same to his cheek. She touched it carefully as if she were a sculptor who'd just completed a fine piece of art.

He slowly opened his eyes and she held his gaze before lightly taking his right arm and working on each individual abrasion with precision and care. She ran her hand up it to make sure everything was fully healed. His skin seemed to burn her fingers, sending warmth through her entire being. After repeating this on his other arm, she briefly rested her hand in his before standing back and putting her wand into her robes.

'Done,' she said with a weak smile.

They could have stood there looking at each other forever. It was one of those rare, ground-breaking moments where everything about it seemed still even though the world continued to spin, and change, and function around it.

Hermione felt very strange, as if a light inside her had switched on. She could now see every detail of Remus's face close-up - from the bridge of his nose, to the subtle flush of his cheeks to the intricate contours of his lips. She suddenly felt her own cheeks grow hot. What was going on?

'So, are we friends again?' she asked with a nervous titter.

'If you'll still have me.' He grinned. She grinned back. He took her hand and they embraced awkwardly.

When Hermione left Remus to go to class, she felt thoroughly confused. She had experienced something in that room that scared her. It was a warm tingling deep inside her that seemed to intensify every time she touched him, even more so when he touched her. But she couldn't possibly feel that about him, about the person she had known as a man so much longer than she had known as someone her own age.

She couldn't possibly feel that about someone who she was going to have to leave eventually, at any given time - someone who even if she wanted to feel such things for, by the law of Time was forbidden to.

No, she must have been imagining it – sometimes Hermione's brain made more decisions than her own heart. Put it down to getting lost in an awkward moment combined with petty teenage hormones and inconvenient loneliness. That's what she told herself at any rate. She was happy with Remus being her friend and wasn't going to jeopardize things again.

Ignoring the doubts that were beginning to cloud her logic, Hermione swept whatever emotions she thought she might have under the carpet, to forget about them like an old pair of shoes.

Better safe than sorry.

--

'No strutting, no over-protectiveness, no forcefulness, no bribery, certainly no blackmail, no bullying others, no getting into fights, no cockiness. _More_ understanding, _more_ listening to her, _more _romantic gestures – not corny though, no smothering, _more _sensitivity – James, are you getting this all down?'

It was Hermione's first 'how-to-be-a-gentleman' class for James. They had gone into a secluded part of the grounds for some privacy over the lunch break and James, who'd been using his pen to play with a beetle on the ground, looked up detachedly.

'Er, yeah, of course,' he lied, pretending to write something in the notebook she had requested he bring.

'Good,' she piped happily. She looked down at her notes again and began walking in circles around him as if she were giving a lecture.

'Now, where were we? Ah yes. More enthusiasm for what she likes, less on-going dribble about Quidditch, more general kindness to all living creatures, less ambivalence and I am an asexual hippopotamus who is going to kidnap you and take you to my pineapple-shaped spaceship.' She stopped, looking angrily down at James, who was now doodling eyeballs on his page.

'You're not _listening _James,' she said, exasperated. 'I prepared all these notes for you and -'

'Couldn't you just give me the – the notes, Isabelle?' he complained in mid-yawn. 'I can't seem to concentrate today.'

'That's because you aren't trying,' she said through her teeth. She put her hands on her hips and added impatiently,

'Besides, I can't just _give _you the notes.'

'Why?' he groaned.

'Because, you won't learn as effectively!' she said rigorously, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.

They glared at each other and turned simultaneously as the bushes rustled. A group of young Hufflepuff students walked into the area, talking and laughing.

'Scat!' James demanded angrily.

A few began walking off without argument but one boy stood looking at James obstinately. 'No,' he griped. 'We don't have to go anywhere.'

'What?' James leered, as if being answered back to was not something he was used to hearing.

'I've heard about you, Potter,' the boy said stiffly. 'You think you own this school, but you don't, so stop acting like you can order everyone around.'

Hermione remained silent, not having seen this side of James before. She was starting to understand what Lily always raved about.

James snorted. 'I don't have time for this. _Ebullio!_'

With a blast of red light from James's wand, the boy yelped and fell backwards, sprouting boils all over his face. His friends gasped and helped him up. With many deadly looks at James, they dragged him away as he yelled back,

'You'll get yours one day, Potter!'

'That's what they all say,' James said impenitently, smirking. Hermione's jaw seemed to reach the ground. He didn't seem to notice.

'So, where were we?' he asked nonchalantly, messing up his hair smugly.

'_Unbelievable_,' she said as if confirming something to herself. 'We really do have a lot of work ahead of us if you've any chance of getting Lily to even _consider _you.'

James looked utterly perplexed. She yanked him up by the ear as the bell for class rang, dragging him back to the castle.

'OW, _Isabelle_, that hurts!' he whinged.

'Homework,' she said astutely as if she had not heard him, '1000 lines. _I must not be a conceited, immature, pig-headed little brat._'

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**A/N: **Hope you are all enjoying it, or even if you aren't, still reviewing :).

Music: I Want You – Savage Garden (I loff it!)


	7. A Little Change

**A/N: **In this chapter, everyone's an idiot!

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**Chapter 6 – A Little Change**

With the increase of free study periods for sixth years, James and Hermione were able to find enough free-time on their hands for more lessons. As both of them weren't exactly struggling with their school work, they had plenty of chances to meet in empty classrooms and the like during afternoons or at night. However, it was finding the right excuses to do so that was tricky.

'I think I left my history book in the classroom today,' Hermione said to Lily one night, while they were studying by the fire in the busy common room.

'Oh, well you can borrow mine,' Lily offered, taking hers out of her bag.

'Thanks, but I should really go and fetch it, I wouldn't want to lose it or anything.' She stood up and made to leave.

'Well, I'll come with you if you like,' Lily said casually, putting her quill down. 'I've been sitting down for far too long.' She began to stand up as well but Hermione pushed her down.

'Don't worry,' she said quickly, laughing nervously. 'I'll only be a moment. You keep studying.'

'Still, I could do with a break,' Lily said, trying to stand up again.

'No, really,' Hermione insisted, pushing her back down again. 'With N.E.W.T's coming up and all, you really can't afford to slack off, even for a moment.' She cringed, knowing how paranoid this must have sounded, but brought herself up again. 'I hate to have to leave myself, of course, but I don't want to put a disadvantage on you too.'

Lily looked at her strangely. 'If you're sure,' she said slowly, with an air of suspicion.

'I'm sure,' Hermione confirmed, relieved.

This keeping-everything-a-secret business was uncomfortable and rather annoyed Hermione, but she could understand James's reasons for wanting it so. As wonderful and loyal as his close companions were; if they found out, James would be taunted and humiliated to no end. While Hermione considered this could be somewhat useful in taming his over-abundant arrogance, she valued him as a person far too much to mess with such fierce pride. She wouldn't ever wish it on Harry, nor would she wish it on him.

She loitered by the portrait hole and when she caught James's eye, nodded and made her exit.

--

James was sitting on the other side of the common room from Hermione and Lily, discussing possible pranks to pull on Snape with Sirius. Peter was listening with glee and Remus, who acted disapproving, still proposed ideas every now and then.

'I still say that the Femininity potion in his pumpkin juice would be best,' Sirius conferred, as if he were discussing important business prospects. 'My aunt used to rave on about its confidence booster to my mum. She'd use it when she was trying to impress a date, because it would make her feel so –' he put on a shrill voice, '_pretty and womanly_.' He thought for a moment then grinned wickedly. 'If we were careful enough, he'd never be able to prove it was us.'

'Yes, but keep in mind that Snape is strongest in potions,' Lupin said, and the others murmured assent. 'He'd be able to make the antidote easily. Knowing him, he probably already has five batches of every counter-potion ever invented stashed under his bed.'

'Ah, it'd be worth it though,' Sirius said dreamily. 'Seeing young Snivelly borrowing pink dress robes and floral perfume off the Slytherin girls would be the happiest moment of my life. Watching him chasing after a few of the male Slytherin Quidditch team would really put the cherry on top of a fantastic year. I mean, come on - if anyone is homophobic, he is.'

James was only half-listening. He watched as Hermione got up and stopped at the portrait hole. Catching her signal, he knew then to wait five minutes before leaving himself.

As their time together increased, James and Hermione had found better methods to make James learn. She had started presenting him with scenarios rather than lectures, letting him say how he would deal with it to begin with, and then giving him advice on perhaps a better approach to the situation. He still felt more than a little embarrassed about it all, but he had to admit that the seminars seemed to be working.

Very much to his vexation, James had stopped giving all the younger students he was convinced were brats a hard time. He'd even started being pleasant to them, or, as pleasant as he could handle. At the start, Hermione had told him that he was sounding too sarcastic, to which he retorted he must have been doing reflexively, but things were now ever so slowly becoming clear.

He had apologized to the Hufflepuff kid who he'd hexed and, on Hermione's orders, given him a Honeyduke's chocolate bar he had picked up in Hogsmeade, much to his reluctance ('he's fat enough already!'). The not remotely chubby boy had slapped him on the back, said that he was glad James had finally seen sense, and thanked him.

Suddenly people were being so much nicer to him. Instead of just being admired, he was actually liked. It wasn't a bad feeling, not a bad feeling at all. He still told Hermione when she brought it up, however, that as much as he wanted to impress Lily, he couldn't bring himself not to pick on Snape. He was, after all, the biggest git that ever existed and deserved special treatment. After a lot of bickering, Hermione finally agreed that he was allowed to still despise Snape, just not in front of Lily.

'What do you think, Prongs?' Sirius suddenly asked. 'Prongs?' he repeated when James didn't answer, waving his hand in front of his friend's face.

'Oh, erm, yeah I like the potion idea,' James said airily, coming out of his reverie.

'You've been really distant lately, mate,' Lupin said, a little concerned. 'Anything up?'

James shook his head and took a sip of Butterbeer that was sitting on the table. 'Apart from the sky, a few planets and a couple of stars, not much Moony,' he said offhandedly. 'I'm just going for a walk, I need a breather.'

He got up and much to his friends' puzzlement left the common room.

--

'I guess I'd quietly take her aside and tell her that I was a little concerned,' James said thoughtfully when Hermione had asked him what he would do if someone else was trying to come on to his girlfriend. 'I wouldn't _accuse_ her of anything and I'd assure her that I _did _trust her, but I'd just let her know how I felt. I couldn't sit back and watch some creep sleaze onto her.'

Hermione was perched on a desk with her legs crossed, listening to him keenly and nodding every now and then as if she were the psychiatrist and him the patient. 'And what if it kept going on?' she posed, supporting her chin on her palm.

He stretched out his legs and propped them up onto another desk. 'Then I'd take him aside and explain to him that it was making me feel uncomfortable and if he wouldn't mind – well, buggering off.'

'Great response!' she congratulated him.

'Really?' he said, putting his feet down. 'Not too … er … uncool?'

'Well, last week when I asked you the same question, your answer was that you'd hex her for flirting, jinx him and set his belongings on fire for daring to go near her.' She laughed. 'I'd say this was a big improvement.'

James grinned. 'So I'm not completely doomed?'

'Not completely doomed, no,' she assured him.

'Ladies, lock your dormitories. James is back and more buff than ever!' he crowed, doing a little dance around the room.

'We'll have to work on that arrogance of yours though,' Hermione noted breezily.

'But it's part of my irresistible allure and panache, m'lady,' he said passionately. 'Without it, I'd be a lesser man!'

She giggled. 'The same allure and panache that has Lily grovelling at your feet? Replace lesser with better and we might have something to work with.' She looked at the clock on the wall. 'Well I think that concludes tonight's session. We've been here nearly two hours.'

'Time does fly so fleetingly when you're having fun,' he said sarcastically as they walked back to the common room.

'Oh shut up. You love every minute of it,' she teased. 'Being the attention seeker you are.'

'Attention seeker?' he repeated in disbelief. 'I am not an attention seeker. I despise attention! Flee from it, in fact.'

Hermione laughed incredulously and when she saw that he was grinning, punched him in the shoulder.

'Ah, James, you really have improved, you know,' she told him as they stopped at the Fat Lady's portrait.

'Well, it's all because of you,' he said sincerely. 'I know this is corny and kill me if I ever say it again … _ever_, but … you've really opened my eyes Isabelle.'

She shook her head. 'So, I gave you a bit of advice. Think of how unpromising you were when we started! If you ask me, you did all the hard yards yourself, lover boy.'

He grinned again, his glasses glinting with the light of the lanterns and his eyes sparkling behind them.

'You've said so many words, not one of which is the password,' the Fat Lady said suddenly in a bored tone. 'Now, are you going to stand around all night talking sentimental drivel or will someone let me have some rest?'

Hermione smiled guiltily. 'Sorry,' she said earnestly. 'Do you want to go in first James?'

He nodded. 'Sure. And you'll come in after five minutes, like normal?'

'Yes. Oh and it might be better if you just go straight to bed,' she suggested. 'That way, anyone who's in there won't see us together –'

'There's no need,' interrupted a voice from behind her.

Hermione whipped around and swallowed. 'Remus,' she said tensely. 'How long have you been standing there?'

'Long enough,' he responded coldly.

'Remus, mate,' James said uncomfortably. 'You understand, don't you? I mean, I've liked her for ages.'

Remus looked mildly stunned. His eyes moved to Hermione. 'Is this true?' he asked her.

'Well, yes,' Hermione answered frankly. 'I mean, I would've thought that you knew, being his best friend and all.'

'Right,' was all he said in response. He gave the password to the Fat Lady and disappeared into the common room.

James and Hermione stared after him before exchanging troubled looks. 'I thought he'd be fine with it,' James said, shocked. 'If not laughing at me, at least.'

'You'd better talk to him,' Hermione said grimly. She repeated the Gryffindor password and she and James emerged through the portrait together.

Remus was nowhere to be seen. He had probably gone up to bed, Hermione guessed. The only people left were a few students playing exploding snap on the hearth, some fellow seventh years studying in a corner and Lily who was in the same spot Hermione had left her, reading a book. She brought her head up as they entered; she looked very tired.

'You'll only be a minute, huh?' she said without humour. 'I'll take note for the future that a minute for you is two hours for me. It will save a lot of waiting around.'

'Oh no, I forgot!' Hermione said shamefully, cursing herself. 'I'm sorry,Lil.'

'I'm gonna go up and tackle Remus,' James said quietly to her. She nodded limply, not taking her eyes off Lily. 'Goodnight Evans,' he said, nodding at her before walking up the stairs.

'Look, I -' 

'Save it Isabelle,' Lily interjected as Hermione began to speak. 'Let's just go to bed.'

'Okay.' She followed Lily up to the girls' dormitories, feeling wretched with guilt. When they reached the door, Lily turned to her.

'I'm just going to ask you straight out,' she said. 'Are you fooling around with James?'

Hermione nearly fell down the stairs in shock.

'_God _no!' she spluttered as quickly as she could get the words out.

'Really?' Lily said dubiously.

'Yes, really!' Hermione said, flabbergasted. 'Where on _earth _did you get that idea?'

'Well, I was talking to Remus and Sirius, and as it turns out, you both always seem to disappear at the same time,' she prompted. 'And you're always acting so friendly towards each other.'

Hermione had to laugh at the irony of the situation. 'Lily, I _swear _to you. We are not, have not and will always be more than good friends,' she said as sincerely as she could. 'I mean, never,' she corrected in haste.

Lily's face relaxed a little, and she smiled. 'I did think it was a little strange, that you two could be dating. I told Remus that, but he's positive you are.'

'Well I'm sorry that I –' Hermione stopped dead. 'Did you just say that Remusthinks we were, you know …'

'Having it off in deserted classrooms?' Lily offered.

'Yes, that, that's the one, thankyou - so much – Lily,' Hermione said in a strained voice, wincing unpleasantly.

Lily grinned mischievously and nodded.

'So _that _explains it!' Hermione groaned suddenly, telling Lily of what happened outside the portrait hole.

'Oh dear.' Lily pursed her lips. 'No wonder he was in such a state when he came in just before you two. Didn't say a word, just went straight up to his dorm.'

Hermione shook her head angrily. 'The nerve of him!' she said hotly. 'What's it to him if I'm dating James? I'm certainly not dating _him._'

Lily kept quiet. She was looking at Hermione in slight amusement.

'What?' Hermione snapped.

'Nothing, nothing,' she said defensively, opening the door to their room.

Hermione forced herself to calm down. Lily was just being teasing, as usual. It was time to turn the conversation in her favour.

'So, did I hint a bit of jealously in your voice when you asked me about James?' she whispered, pinching Lily playfully as they tiptoed over to her bed and sat down, trying not to rouse the other sleepers.

'Ow!' said Lily, pinching her back and putting on an innocent voice. 'Whatever do you mean?'

'You know what I mean,' Hermione teased, starting to untie her shoes.

'Well, I don't _like _him or anything …' Lily started.

'No, of course not, completely out of the question,' Hermione cut in, in false seriousness.

'But,' she paused, 'he's changed, I'll give him that.'

'Changed?' Hermione asked, hardly containing her delight.

'You must have noticed,' Lily said wistfully. 'He's so much more …'

'Pleasant?'

'Well, yes,' Lily laughed. 'Take the other day for instance. He bumped into a Ravenclaw first year on his way to class and instead of yelling "_Watch where you're going!" _or _"Get the hell out of my way!" _he … he actually apologized! He said it was his fault and that he'd try to be more careful in the future.'

Hermione couldn't help but feel smug. She was setting up Harry's parents!

'And another thing,' Lily said, changing into her pyjamas. 'I know it sounds high and mighty of me, but he hasn't asked me out for a whole week! I think it's a record.' She shook her head and lay on down on the bed.

Hermione had advised James in his first lesson to stop trying to annoy Lily into going out with him. _Let her come to you,_ she had told him.

And by the looks of it, her plan was working.

'He probably doesn't even like me anymore,' Lily said, a little disappointedly.

'Oh, he still likes you all right,' Hermione said with alacrity. 'I wouldn't worry about that.'

Lily beamed. 'You're such a great friend Bel,' she said fondly.

Hermione hugged her. 'Sleep well,' she said, getting up and changing into her own bed-clothes. She stopped and thought for a moment. 'What am I saying? Of course you will when you've got James to dream about.'

She caught the teddy bear Lily flung at her and poked out her tongue.

'Behave,' Lily said sternly, turning off the light.

Hermione felt a wave of sadness rush over her as she lay in bed. When she had first come into the past, she had never expected to make friends. Although she had no choice, she despised herself for lying to them. Every time they called her _Isabelle_,she couldn't help but suffer a twinge of guilt. She knew Dumbledore was right; she was well aware that she was not to tamper with time, but it didn't stop her from wanting to stand up at dinner in the Great Hall and scream at the top of her lungs, 'I am Hermione Granger! Pay me lots of money for I know all your destinies!'

But when she questioned herself of whether she'd rather have never fallen through that painting in the first place, she found that she answered _no _in an instant. She'd had to do sixth year twice, be away from her immediate friends and family, stress herself out looking for something unknown to her and nearly get eaten by her teacher to be. Yet somehow, coming into the past was one of the best things that had ever happened to her …

Thinking about all the great moments she'd had over the past four and a half months, Hermione drifted to sleep with a smile on her face.

* * *

**A/N: **Badabapa ching ching ching! THANKS Abbie and Polza for the help and...are we all HAPPY READERS? Hope so!

Next chapter: The ring makes a return, Remus gets mad, Hermione gets mad, James gets mad, Sirius laughs, a squirrel sits in a tree and ... Titanic?

Keep reviewing folks; hate mail, letters of adoration, constructive and/or destructive criticism, death threats - it's ALL welcome.

Music: '40 – Franz Ferdinand (somehow I can just see everything going wrong to this song)


	8. Sirius's Plan

**A/N: **Don'cha just love angst? And Remus ... and James, and SIRIUS come to that!

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 7 – Sirius's Plan**

'Isabelle, get up, quick!'

Hermione rolled over, ignoring the voice inside her dream.

'Come _on_, I know you're awake.'

She put her head under her pillow at a lame attempt to block out the sound. After disregarding another slightly muffled order, she felt something fly into her arm.

_Ow. Since when do I have such violent dreams? _

She opened her eyes and, still seeing black, threw away her pillow and sat up. A blazing glow filled the room and she had to squint while her eyes adjusted to the light.

'Finally,' said that annoying voice. Oh, Lily's voice. 'Come and look out the window.'

Hermione stood up and grumpily mooched over to her. 'I was having a really lovely dream,' she muttered. 'You were in bed and I was waking _you _up.'

'Look!' Lily exclaimed, pointing out the window excitedly.

Hermione took in a sharp breath at the sight that lay before her. Pure white snow covered every inch of the grounds. The inviting sun shined luminously over the land, causing each and every miniscule icicle on the ground to glisten like jewels. The trees were coated white, as were the distant hills. The birds were chirping and the students were laughing and throwing snowballs, building snowmen, shaking the trees. Winter had finally settled in and Hermione found herself trapped in Happy Days - again.

So why did she feel so out of place?

--

The first person Hermione ran into on her way down to breakfast was James.

'Hello,' he greeted. 'How'd it go with Lily?'

'She's fine with it,' Hermione replied distractedly.

'You didn't tell her what we were doing, did you?' he asked in a worried tone.

'Of course I didn't,' she reassured him. 'What about with Remus?'

He grimaced. 'Not so well.'

She should have known. The fact that Lily trusted her after only knowing her for a few months, and yet Remus wouldn't readily believe what one of his oldest friends had to say angered her. She and Remus were very different people. 'Did you explain it to him?'

'Didn't get a chance. He wouldn't hear it.'

'God, he's stubborn,' she said irritably, instantly being reminded of Ron and the Victor Krum situation in fourth year. 'He didn't say anything to you either, I suppose?'

'Nope, just went straight to sleep. He wasn't in his bed when I woke up either.'

She groaned. 'What about Sirius?'

'He didn't care.'

Hermione sighed. She was glad Sirius was indifferent about the issue at hand. If he too was tangled up in the whole messy situation, Hermione was sure she would have gone mad - it was already complicated enough. Had someone in the future told her that she'd ever be mixed up in the love lives of the Marauders, she would have recommended that they get their head checked - quickly.

James cleared his throat. 'If you see Remus, will you tell him to just hear me out? He listens to you.'

'Sure he does,' she muttered bitterly. 'I'll see what I can do.'

'Thanks,' he said, then, in a fake-casual tone asked, 'So, what did Lily say?'

Hermione suddenly grinned. 'Well, whatever it is that you're doing Jamesie, keep it up.' She slapped him on the back and gambolled off to breakfast, jubilantly whistling _All You Need Is Love_.

--

After school, Hermione decided that all she needed right now was some time to herself. She'd had precious little of it of recently and was thrilled when James told her that he wanted a bit of a break from his tutoring. Lily and Sirius were busy doing their own thing, Peter was … disgusting and Remus - well, Remus wasn't talking to her of course.

Putting on a scarf and a woollen beanie, she strolled outside and breathed in the fresh, cold air; it exhilarated her, refreshed her. Walking along listening to nature go about its business all around, Hermione felt more at peace with the world than she had in days.

Giving a quick look about her to make sure she was alone, she began loudly singing _My Heart Will Go On_, twirling happily in the snow.

'FAR ACROSS THE DISTANCE AND SPACES BETWEEN US!' she sung very loudly and out of tune. Hermione was good at a lot of things but unfortunately, singing wasn't one of them.

'Jack, wake up Jack!' she whispered dramatically, getting a little too caught up in the mood. She stopped abruptly as giggling sounded behind her. Turning, she saw a group of girls standing in the snow.

'You all right, there?' one asked, grinning.

'Yes,' Hermione answered defensively.

'What _was_ that?' one girl with an upturned nose asked.

'_Titanic_, obviously!' Hermione said incredulously. Even Parvati and Lavender, whose families hardly associated with Muggles, had heard of _Titanic._

They stared at her blankly. Hermione stared back. She then hit herself, remembering what year it was.

'A movie,' she added with a nervous laugh, 'about … a big ship. I wrote it, you see.' She smiled widely at them. They backed away slowly.

Moving off the path, she trudged through the deep snow to the edge of the lake, her favourite place in all of Hogwarts. The top layer of the lake was completely frozen over. It was a cerulean panorama set within a winter wonderland; the picturesque scene drew Hermione's attention like a magnet and she was utterly mesmerized. And the atmosphere was just so silent. It was as if the sounds that normally blared from the castle were temporarily muted.

She had never taken much time in the present to really appreciate her surroundings, she wasn't quite sure why. Perhaps it was that when she'd been admiring a view of the school, she had always been with Harry and Ron, talking and enjoying their company rather than focusing on the landscape. She didn't often go outside on her own, much preferring to head to the warmth of the library. She'd always been more of an indoor girl, really.

Temptingly, she broke off a bit of ice from the bank and skid it along the solid lake, watching it spin off into the distance, buzzing softly as it went. She then cracked the thinner ice that sat towards the shore with her foot and picked out a bigger piece that reminded her of a window pane. It numbed her fingers as she held it.

As hard as she could, she threw the ice square onto the lake. Her face broke into a satisfactory grin as it shattered like glass into hundreds of equally freezing shards that each zoomed in different directions across the surface, making the same pleasant tinkling chime.

The sound of a foot crunching on ice made her turn around.

It was Remus. He looked genuinely surprised to see her there. He must have assumed the area would be deserted.

_Well, he's not the only one who needs space, _Hermione thought resentfully. She couldn't help it; she was so angry with Remus that just seeing his stupid handsome face annoyed her.

'Sorry,' he said calmly. 'I didn't know you were here.' She watched him turn to go before he stopped in his tracks.

'You know what?' he said heatedly, turning around. 'I'm not sorry.'

'That makes two of us,' Hermione said, glaring at him. They stood in stood in astringent silence. Hermione could nearly feel the heat radiating from him. She didn't like it.

Remus finally marched up to her, returning her glare with fervour. 'What's gotten into you?' he demanded.

'What are you talking about?' she said, turning away from him with deliberate aloofness.

'First of all, you've hardly talked to me at all since after breakfast that day when _you_ were the one who wanted to reconcile in the first place,' he said pointedly and Hermione's anger wavered for a moment.

It was true. Since she'd started meeting so often with James, she had, in a way, been ignoring Remus. She hadn't really meant to, it was sort of an unconscious thing. She supposed it _was_ a bit nasty of her, but he hadn't exactly been falling head over heels to spend time with her either.

'And going off with James without any explanation!' he added, his ears going red with anger. His hair had fallen over his eyes and he brushed it away impatiently.

Hermione looked back out to the lake, avoiding his eyes. She didn't have to put up with this.

'And what exactly do you mean by "going off" with James?' she asked shrilly, her cool demeanour deteriorating further by the second.

'Dating, snogging, shagging, whatever the hell you define as _going off_,' he said, his voice rising uncontrollably.

'That's completely unfair and you know it, Remus,' she said fiercely.

'Why? Why is it so unfair?'

'Because it is none of your business what I do!' she shouted, throwing her hands about madly. 'It's not as if you're my boyfriend - you don't _own_ me like some pet, some – some _lapdog_!'

He said nothing. It looked for a moment as if he'd been winded, as if someone had served him a heavy punch in the stomach. His breathing had quickened and his head dropped, as if he was recovering to serve the next blow. He straightened up.

'So you admit to it then?' he reproved, his eyes flashing dangerously.

She couldn't believe it. He was so ready to assume the worst of her, to think that after all they had been through, that she'd just start snogging his best friend who liked someone else, anyway!

_Just goes to show how much he trusts me_.

Hermione scowled. 'I'll leave that up to you to decide,' she said, her tone as cold as the ice that surfaced the lake.

Her emotions feeling as if they were on fire, she stormed away from the lake, away from him. That way he could have his _precious _time alone. Angry tears stained her cheeks as she ran up to her dormitory, ignoring everyone in the common room. She didn't stop until she was safely inside.

She hoped he _did_ think that she had fooled around with James; she hoped he_ did_ think that she had deliberately ignored him. He could hate her for all she cared.

_If only he knew the truth, then he'd be sorry._

'If if's and buts were lollies and nuts…' she began, Dumbledore's annoying song popping suddenly into her head. 'FUCK!'

Her breaths came out choked and rapid as she leant against the door. It was a mix of trying to hold back her emotions as well as her inexperience in the running field; she wasn't used to working her body so hard.

She knew that she'd done nothing wrong, but Remus was making her feel as guilty as if she really had been secretly dating James. Not that it would have been a crime if she had at that! The unwarranted guilt was overwhelming, and without one more thought she flung herself hopelessly onto her bed.

Sobbing fervently into her pillow, she no longer felt at peace with the world; she felt like she was in the middle of a raging war and nothing nor no one could save her.

--

Not long after Hermione had left, Remus had chucked a few snowballs at the trees to try and get his anger out. When that didn't work, he went around the school kicking over each and every snowman he could find, the bigger the better (to his shock, several children had come up to him from behind a clump of bushes yelling at him for ruining what they'd worked on all afternoon. In the end he had spent another great deal of time building them a new one). Not feeling remotely satisfied he tried yelling, jumping, punching and stamping at the ground but all he gained from this was worried looks from bystanders and the attention of a curious squirrel that was nibbling an acorn on a nearby tree.

Frustrated with everything from bloody Isabelle and James to the bloody squirrel that sat on its bloody tree, watching him blankly while it took an hour to eat its bloody acorn, Remus stormed up to his dormitory and shut the door.

_Wait, I'm angry. _

He opened the dorm door again and slammed it … hard. This action made him feel slightly better. Not for long however, as he turned around to find himself face to face with - _James_.

'What the hell did you say to her Remus?' was the first thing he said.

Remus vaguely noticed Sirius sitting on his bed in the background wearing a grim expression, but he didn't care. All he wanted to do was punch James square in the nose.

'Why is this all _my _fault now?' he shouted to no one in particular, looking around pointlessly.

'She came running into the common room looking completely distraught and wouldn't speak, just ran up to her room. So I'll ask again, _what_ did you say?' James said severely, staring at him.

'I gave her a piece of my mind. I told her exactly what I thought about the two of you … the two of you –'

'Making out in deserted classrooms?' Sirius interjected.

'Exactly!' he finished with a furious wave of his hand. And to think James had the nerve to look all confused and innocent. When Remus didn't say anything, he turned to Sirius questioningly.

Sirius cleared his throat. 'He thinks you and Isabelle had it off, Prongs.'

James turned back to Remus and shook his head in disbelief. 'You're an absolute idiot Moony,' James said plainly.

'Come again?' Remus said, caught off-guard.

'I said that you were an idiot. Got a problem with that? Because from where I'm standing it seems as if you've got quite a few problems you need to sort out, hey?' James ventured ardently. He looked away and shook his head in astonishment. 'What an IDIOT.'

'_That's it!' _roared Remus, seizing the first thing he could find and hurling it hard at James' head. Unfortunately, it happened to be a dirty sock which didn't even reach his head. They both watched it flop to the ground.

'Dang,' said Remus.

'Ah Moony,' James said earnestly. 'Isabelle and I have not done _anything _like … like –' he searched for the right words, 'like what you think we have!'

'So why have you been spending so much time together?' Remus interrogated. He wasn't shouting but his voice was still wrought with bitterness.

James sighed. 'Because,' he began hesitantly. 'Ah, screw it. We've been spending so much time together because Isabelle has been giving me lessons on how to act towards girls. So that I can impress _Lily_,' he added with emphasis, 'who, if you haven't noticed Remus, I've happened to like since _fifth year_.'

Remus was simply staring at him as if this prospect was taking a while to register.

'Shit,' he said after a while.

'Yeah, shit,' James said resolutely.

There was another long silence when suddenly, Sirius began to laugh manically. James and Remus stared at him.

'_Girl _lessons!' he roared, 'James Potter taking _girl _lessons! Oh, that's classic.'

Remus, unable to hold back, joined in.

'Yes go on, laugh,' James said grudgingly. 'Can you see now why I made Isabelle swear not to tell anyone?'

Remus stopped laughing immediately and put his head in his hands. 'So _that's _why she was being so secretive,' he said despairingly, his voice muffled. 'Oh God I _am_ an idiot.'

Sirius' laughter subsided too and he looked at his friend sadly. 'At least you've seen the light, my beasty brother,' he said tactlessly then after a moment burst into hysterics at this remark.

'I'm so sorry Prongs,' Remus said, taking his face out of his hands and ignoring Sirius's shrieks. 'Can you forgive me?'

'_I _can Moony, you're my best friend. All I ask is that next time you _think _before jumping to the conclusion that I'd betray you like that.'

Remus nodded. 'Of course.'

'And always remember that no matter where you go, there you are.'

Remus gave James a look that could only say "What the fuck?" but nodded and smiled anyway. James sighed grimly at Remus, whose smile wavered.

'But?'

'But, it isn't me you should be worrying about,' James said shortly, leaving the room.

--

Remus watched James go, feeling livid with himself. All that time he'd been so _sure _that James and Isabelle had been sneaking off and having some wild affair behind his back. Perhaps in the back of his mind he'd sort of known all along that it couldn't have been true, but everything had been pointing to the worst possible scenario in his head. At least it was all clear now. And although he was relieved that he had found out the truth, he didn't feel much better. Actually, he felt worse.

He'd been a complete bigot and realized with a start that he had not even tried to let Isabelle explain, he'd just interrogated her. And James, James should be angrier at him too. He'd hardly treated him like a best friend.

Remus decided then and there that he had felt more anger, jealousy, fear, frustration and awkwardness in the past four months than he had in all his seventeen years of existence.

_Ever since she came._

But then again, he had also never laughed so much, smiled so much or felt so – so happy. Sure, he had his friends and they were great but, well, Sirius and James were practically attached to the hip and Peter was a little strange, so he always felt a tinge of exclusion. Now it was as if he'd found his match. It felt like every minute, every _moment_ he spent with this girl his heart would be pounding a thousand times as fast – he'd be grinning for the rest of the day. Remus' head was spinning. He had never met someone like her and though she brought him bliss she was causing him absolute agony at the same time.

But he had completely blown it.

Finally coming out of his reverie, Remus realized that Sirius was still sniggering idiotically. 'Oh, shut up,' he snapped, walking over to his bed and flopping down limply.

He felt Sirius slap him on the shoulder sympathetically. 'So!' he said, resting a hand on his diaphragm.

'So what?' Remus asked crossly.

'So, what's your plan of action?'

Remus blinked. He had not given any thought to what came next. This only stressed him out more. 'Don't have one,' he said glumly. 'What could I possibly do to make it up to her?'

'Talk to her maybe?' Sirius said, looking at him.

'I'm not good at talking,' Remus grumbled. He rolled onto his side and picked up the ring he had kept from the day after he met Isabelle, twirling it languidly between his thumb and index finger. Its three blue gems momentarily turned into blue eyes; he could have sworn they were looking at him and saying, 'don't worry dickie, for a day without sunshine is like … you know, night'.

'I could really do with some pizza right about now,' he said absently, realizing that he hadn't eaten all day, and if he was seeing and hearing things already, he probably should do something about it.

'That's it!' Sirius said triumphantly.

'You want me to feed her pizza?' asked Remus sceptically.

'No, you donut. Give her _that.' _Sirius pointed to the ring in Remus' hand.

'What? Why?'

'Because girls _love_ jewellery,' Sirius said confidently. 'And, you know, you can always put a couple of charms on it to make her a little easier going on you.'

Remus grinned. 'Sirius, you're a genius.'

--

Hermione slowly opened her eyes. Startled to see that it was dark, she sat up and clumsily lit her bedside lantern. Her stomach growled, but looking at the clock, she realized she must have missed dinner.

Still in her clothes from that afternoon, she stumbled down the stairs into the common room. It was buzzing with students. She quickly spotted Lily who was sitting on the couch with a quill in her mouth, hunched over a piece of parchment. Hermione went and plonked herself down in an armchair near her.

'Ah. Look who has finally arisen,' Lily said in greeting. 'You're not going to die on me, are you?'

'I wish,' Hermione said through a gigantic yawn. 'I'm okay. I'm just a bit dazed, is all.'

'Well, you would be. I heard it was quite some row you had with Remus.'

'If it's alright with you Lil, I'd rather not talk about that right now,' Hermione said quietly. She really didn't feel up to facing it – not yet anyway. She wished she'd kicked Remus in the shins - it would have made her feel so much better. Or maybe if she'd punched him in the head, or somewhere else …

Hermione grinned evilly. Lily gave her a brief worried look then started to write busily.

'What are you doing?' asked Hermione curiously.

'I'm writing down a list of all the reasons why I don't want to go out with James,' she said in a business-like way.

'What?' Hermione laughed. 'Why?'

'Because I'm afraid they're getting steadily more scarce.'

Just then the portrait hole opened. James, Sirius and Remus sauntered in joking and laughing while Peter followed behind them eagerly. Remus's eyes met Hermione's and she quickly looked away. Flashbacks of their screaming match flooded back to her and she suddenly felt all the anger that had begun drifting away as she had slept.

In the corner of her eye she saw him say something to his friends and look in her direction anxiously. They nodded and went over to sit down in a corner.

_Don't come over here, _she thought fiercely.

'Isabelle.'

_Damnit._

'Look, I know what you must be thinking.'

_Yes, you know what I'm thinking. Congratulations, you're a fucking mind reader, Arsy McArse._

She kept staring determinedly at the ground, vaguely aware of him leaning down against the arm of the chair. Biting him sounded good right about now.

'James. He – he told me the truth.'

'Oh did he?' Hermione said wryly, looking up at him at last. 'Pity. I was beginning to enjoy the whole secret relationship with James you created for me.'

'I'm so sorry,' he said expressively. 'If I could only find – the right words.'

The difference about Remus's apologies to anyone else's was that there was never any question as to whether they were real, Hermione thought, feeling sorry for him. When he apologized, his whole heart apologized – no strings attached. He was the type of person who ran on raw emotion, not silly teenage hormones, and this was what made him so genuine. Hermione couldn't help but feel a pang of admiration towards him, despite all her anger. For she could tell that not only his mouth was saying sorry, but rather every fibre of his being was desperately _feeling _it. And all that could be seen by looking into his world-worn eyes for but an instant.

Somehow the lively buzz of the common room had died down. People were looking at them, listening to them. Remus didn't seem to notice. In fact, he did the last thing Hermione ever would have expected him to.

He got down on one knee and took her right hand as if he were about to propose. Not only that but in his other hand he was holding a small velvet case. Hermione's eyes widened. She wasn't ready for marriage, not now! Not before her N.E.W.T's, not in 1978!

'Whoa,' she stammered.

'Isabelle Johnston,' he said seriously, looking into her eyes, 'I'd like to ask you something.'

Hermione squeaked in reply.

'Will ... you …' and the whole room seemed to be holding their breath. 'Will you not look so scared? I'm apologizing, not proposing.'

She let out a breath of relief as the students around her chuckled. They went back to what they were doing and the buzz returned.

'Don't do that to me again, please?' she said, breathing hard.

He grinned audaciously and opened the case. Inside it was none other than the ring that the two of them had discovered by the lake so long ago. She couldn't believe he still had it. She took it carefully and frowned as she examined it.

'Put it on,' he urged, closing the case and putting it back in his robes.

She narrowed her eyes and held the ring up to the light.

'What are you doing?' he asked.

'Remus, I'm insulted,' she said, shaking her head.

'Oh no,' Remus said edgily. 'What have I done now?'

Hermione rolled her eyes and flicked the ring at Remus, crossing her arms. 'Well, you must have thought I was stupid if you didn't know I'd recognize the spells you put on that ring.'

Remus looked slightly sick. He cleared his throat. 'What spells?' he said hurriedly, bringing his arm round to scratch his neck guiltily.

She snatched the ring again, studying it closely. 'Forgiveness spell, forget-me-not, anger-no-more charm, oh, and a bit of a sympathy enchantment - how quaint,' she said promptly.

'They weren't permanent,' Remus muttered. Clearly he thought he'd get away with his scheme.

'Completely harmless, I'm sure.' Hermione couldn't help but laugh.

He screwed up his face in shame but eyed Hermione in wonder. 'I'd love to know how you figured all that out.'

Hermione shrugged. 'It really wasn't that hard to tell. I've read all about the signs that something is charmed.'

'You'll have to teach me someday then.'

'I suppose I will.' He smiled at her and she smiled back.

'You know, if you wanted forgiveness you should've just gotten me a pizza,' Hermione said as her stomach grumbled. 'I'm starving.'

* * *

**A/N: **Music: Sparks - Coldplay

You'll like the next chapter.

Or possibly hate it. :)

Oh, and if ANYONE feels like doing fanart for this, please let me know, as I'd be DELIGHTED.


	9. Good, Bad & Somewhere In Between

**Chapter 8 – Some Good, Some Bad and Somewhere In Between**

'A good thing about having unicorns as pets is that they're not only easily befriended, but they can protect you if need be. The unicorn's ability to defend is highly underestimated because of their peaceful nature, but really, their powers could easily outstrip ours.' Hermione spoke as if she were reciting a passage from a textbook. She tucked her quill behind her ear, grinned proudly, and took a sip of Butterbeer.

It was a Sunday night and she was discussing an essay the seventh-years had to write on domesticating magical creatures with Remus, Sirius and Lily. They needed to pick out the wild creature they thought would be the safest and most practical to live with wizards.

'Yes, but unicorns are far too flighty to have as pets,' Remus noted smartly. 'Even if they did happen to like you – they'd be gone in no more than a week. They're the drifters of the magical world, never settling down in one place. You'd be better off with a Blast-ended Screwt.' He winked. 'They're defensive, steadfast and too slothful to move, let alone run away. Even if they tried, I doubt you'd have a problem catching them.'

'Oh yeah, it'd be great,' Sirius said in fake enthusiasm. 'You'd be able to take them for runs in the park, snuggle up with them on a cold day -'

'Lose a finger or two …' Lily added casually, not looking up from her work.

Hermione smiled, remembering the time in her fourth year when Hagrid had gathered up an entire gang of Blast-ended Screwts. Spiky, increasingly growing slug-like creatures, they had caused the class nothing but bedlam.

'You should be a Care of Magical Creatures professor, not a Defence Against the Dark Arts one,' Hermione commented to Remus.

'What?' he said, confused.

'Er, what I meant to say was,' Hermione said quickly, making plans to punch herself in the head the next time she was alone. 'Don't you _really_ hate it when you go to the toilet and there's no toilet paper?'

Sirius put his chin in his hand thoughtfully. 'Remus, a teacher? That's actually not too bad an idea.' He and Remus looked at each other and cracked up laughing.

'What?' asked Hermione, laughing a little herself. 'What's so funny about it?'

'He hates kids!' Sirius spluttered, pointing at Remus who had his head in a cushion and was laughing so hard that he was beginning to make hiccupping sounds. 'He'd probably end up eating them all.'

'D-detention every f-full moon,' Remus choked in between gasps of laughter. 'If you breathe louder than me, report to my office and join me for dinner.'

Sirius was beginning to cry. 'Fifty points off Slytherin for smiling during an exam period.'

'100 points off Slytherin for looking like Snape,' Remus added. 'Twerp.'

'Oh shut up,' interjected Lily, still writing. 'Sirius would be the one smuggling alcohol into lessons and coming on to the pretty young blonds.'

Remus and Sirius laughed even harder, exchanging an enthusiastic high-five in the air. Hermione stared at them in bewilderment, smiling and shaking her head. She crossed her arms over her chest and waited patiently for them to calm down.

'Oh, Isabelle, I just remembered.' Remus said after a satisfied sigh. 'This belongs to you.' He dug into the pocket of his trousers and removed the ring. He held it out to her.

'Er, Remus -' she began charily.

'It's okay, I've stripped it of all magic,' he broke her off, as if reading her mind. 'Oh and sorry, the case belongs to James. You can't keep it.'

She gave him a bantering grin as she took it, wrapping it in her handkerchief and placing it securely in her robes. The portrait hole opened and James came in, looking very pleased with himself. He was dressed in winter robes and his cheeks were flushed from the cold - he must have been outside. He took off his gloves and walked over to them. Without saying a word, he knelt down in front of Lily. She looked up from her parchment, surprised.

'Lily, my love, my heart, my feather'd friend,' he declared melodramatically. 'I have brought thou a gift from faraway yonder!'

Hermione gasped as he brought out of his robes a rose. It was no ordinary rose, but one carved intricately out of ice. The detail was incredible - its beauty, breathtaking. Surprisingly, it had not been damaged nor melted from being in the warmth of his pockets. Hermione supposed he'd placed charms on it to prevent such occurrences.

He handed it to Lily, who, outright stunned, took it without saying anything.

'A pretty rose for a pretty lady,' he said with irrefutable charm, standing up without taking his eyes off hers, and bowing to her as if she were royalty.

'I – I –' Lily began breathlessly.

'Don't speak.' He put his finger to her lips. 'Thine precious lips need not sayest … er, anything.' And with an evocative wink in her direction, he traipsed up to the boys' dormitories, whistling.

Lily, who stared after him in a bubbly disorientation, started when she realized that Remus, Hermione and Sirius were all looking at her.

'Well, that was unexpected,' she blurted out. Hermione exchanged stealth looks with Remus and Sirius. 'I, I think I'll go to bed,' she added.

Not bothering to get her books, she walked up to her own dormitory with a dazed look on her face. As soon as they heard the door shut, Remus, Sirius and Hermione burst out laughing.

'Those girl lessons really seem to have taken their toll on him,' Remus said cheerfully.

'Yeah, I dunno what you've been telling him,' Sirius said. 'But it looks like it's working.'

'Ah, the secrets of a female Mastermind,' Hermione said in a superior tone.

Suddenly, she couldn't explain it; she was overcome by a spontaneous urge to go out to the grounds. It had been such a while since she had gone out looking, and lately, these impulses always led to some sort of thrilling event. So what if last time she had nearly gotten eaten by a werewolf? The risk of what might happen excited her. What if she actually found something this time?

'I have to go outside,' she said, standing up and putting on her coat and scarf.

'Nooo,' Remus pined. 'Isabelle, it's freezing and it's dark and can't you wait for the morning?'

Hermione tried to hold back her giggles. Whenever he argued lightly about something, Remus tended to flash a big toothy smile afterwards, as if he was using it as a last effort persuasion. As much as it charmed her, Hermione knew she could always win him over.

'Oh come on Remus, where's your sense of adventure?' she quipped, taking him by the arm and steering him towards the portrait hole.

'I hate it when you do this,' he said through his teeth, although not protesting her gesture.

'You love it!' she laughed.

'Don't mind me,' Sirius called after them. 'I hope you both freeze to death.'

'Sure you don't want to come then?' she asked him.

He shook his head. 'Thanks, but I'm sure I'll find something else to do that's nearly as fun as getting a cold arse.'

No sooner said had the same blonde Gryffindor girl who had greeted Sirius seductively on Hermione's first night in the past, bounded across the room and sat on his lap, whispering something in his ear and smiling deviously.

Sirius's eyebrows shot up. In what seemed like one swift movement, he lifted her off his knee, stood up, and began leading her up to the boys' dormitory, grinning back at Hermione and Remus as he went.

Hermione gave him an enthusiastic wave and left the common room, Remus rolling his eyes and letting her pull him out after her.

--

The two walked along the snowy path in the grounds, the light of the moon -which, thankfully, was not full - shining upon them. Hermione breathed out icy mist and drew her arms around herself – the night was nearly as cold as Sirius had made it out to be. She turned her eyes to Remus who was looking up at the stars. He caught her glance and stopped.

'Isabelle,' he said seriously. 'Are you ever going to explain all this?'

'What?' she said quickly, caught off-guard.

'You know what,' he said in a tight voice.

Hermione did know what he was talking about. He had been following her around all year, helping her look for the ticket back into her own time, but never had she offered any sort of explanation. All she had said at the start of the year was "it's complicated" and he had not pushed it any further. He knew she didn't want to talk about it then so he left the matter alone. She knew she owed him some sort of reasoning – but what would she say? What could she say?

He was looking at her calmly but she could sense his restless need to know more. She stirred uneasily.

'Well, I just – it's so hard to …' she trailed off and looked over his shoulder. 'I think I see something.' She ran over to a tree and began digging in the snow in fake concentration. Yes, she felt like a coward but it wasn't her fault. None of this was her fault!

He sighed audibly and put his hands in his pockets. After a moment she had a thought.

'Remus?' she called out.

'Wha –' he faltered as a flying ball of snow hit him square in the nose. He spluttered, wiping his face and looked up surprisingly at Hermione who had her hand over her mouth, trying to stifle her laughter.

'I didn't expect my aim to be that good,' she insisted, her voice shaking with glee. His look of surprise soon changed into one of determined reprisal.

'Oh, you're going to pay for that,' he said doggedly, nodding and gathering up some snow in his hands.

They broke into a vicious snowball fight amongst cascades of wild laughter. As carefree as a pair of ten year-olds in the park, they ran all around the untouched snow in the grounds: jumping behind trees, digging trenches, and they didn't stop until they were both ready to collapse – as good as dripping melted icicles from head to toe.

Hermione, who was bent over with her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath, straightened with difficulty and moved towards Lupin. 'Okay – truce …' she panted, holding her hand out hopefully.

After a moment, he shook it firmly and gave a snort of laughter. She eyed him half with affront, half with amusement. 'Sorry,' he chuckled. 'You've got snow all over your face.'

She elbowed him in the side and started wiping her face with her hands blindly. He laughed again.

'Well, is it gone?' she responded impatiently.

Just to be an irritatingly cute member of the male species, he gave her a notorious lopsided grin that not only caused the snow that Hermione was submerged in to melt more insistently, but showed the irresistible streak that trapped womankind like strangers with candy – the sexiness of someone who was unreservedly oblivious to their own allure and desirability. She felt the hypnotic beating of her heart stretch as far as the tips of her pulsing fingertips, and she quivered.

'Pretty much. There's just a little snowflake right …' He brushed his hand against the corner of her mouth, causing shivers to run up her spine, 'there.'

He had drawn in closer to her, his eyes looking down into her own, the sky dancing above them and the snow dripping off their robes. She was caught in a world of his own.

And he kissed her.

Hermione went temporarily blind as lightning streaked across her vision. She was taken by such surprise that before she could respond it was over. The kiss was brief and gentle but intoxicating, playful and empowering at the same time. Hermione felt light-headed as his lips left hers.

'I -' she gulped, the hypnotic beat blasting in her ears.

'Isabelle,' he almost whispered, holding her head in his hands and looking at her intently. 'All those months ago when we'd been searching in the dungeons I wanted to tell you something.' He touched her nose lightly with his. 'You are the most intelligent, beautiful and utterly stubborn girl I've ever met. Don't you ever think that nobody would want to kiss you.'

Had he just said that? Hermione couldn't believe it; she was in a dream, she was about to cry; her knees were going to give way.

_But this can't happen_, said a nasty little voice inside her head. She wasn't in her own world, not technically at least. She was in his. And in his time, this should not have taken place. Dreading what she was about to do, she gently placed her trembling hands on his and brought them down.

'Remus, I – I can't do this,' she said as firmly as she could, although every fibre of her being was shouting otherwise. The spark that had arisen in his eyes was now gone and he looked wounded.

'But, I thought you wanted –'

'This isn't right,' she said miserably. 'I'm sorry.' She pulled away from him and turned around, hastily brushing away the few tears that had slipped down her cheek.

'You – you're lying to me,' he said desperately, as if trying to will it to be true. 'You do want this but – but you can't. There's a reason why. What _is _it Isabelle, what is it?'

She gulped back a sob and spoke without turning around. She couldn't face him, she couldn't let herself give in. 'There is no reason,' she said flatly. 'All I wanted was your friendship, I never – I – never.' She faltered, drawing her arms around herself again.

'Why are you so afraid to get close to me?' She heard his voice as if it were echoing inside her head. 'Is it – is it because of those friends you had at your old school? Is that why?' He gripped her shoulders and turned her around to face him. She glanced down at the ground.

_I'm a coward, _she thought.

'I want you to look me in the eye and _say_ that you feel nothing for me,' he said fiercely, his grip unwavering.

Hermione shut her eyes and bit her lip tightly. She couldn't comprehend how fervently she was feeling. Her nails were digging into her palms to try and control the force of her emotions. He wasn't there, he wasn't there. None of this was real. She was alone and safe and still.

'_Say it_, Isabelle!' he shouted. 'What are you waiting for?'

She whimpered. _Just for you to say my name._

Letting a sole tear fall, she opened her eyes and painfully, looked up at him.

'I feel nothing for you,' she whispered.

Out of all the lies she had told, this one felt the worst. She wasn't only lying to Remus but she was lying to herself, to her very own heart. Her skin felt like ice, not because of the weather or the state of her clothes but because she no longer had a reason to feel warm. Without anyone knowing it, he had been her warmth.

Remus stared at her as hard as if he were searching right into her soul, looking for something that he just couldn't find. She stared back determinedly, willing him to believe that what she said was true. He had to believe it, for his own good.

Hermione suddenly felt icy flakes fall upon her – it was snowing. And although they fell down the back of her neck and made her shudder unpleasantly, she didn't dare look away. The pressure on her shoulders soon lessened and he removed his hands slowly, morosely, to his sides. He wasn't looking at her anymore.

'Then I won't do that again,' he said quietly, walking a few steps away from her and pausing to look up at the sky. He turned back to her. 'Not unless you want me to.'

She ran her trembling fingers through her hair. _Why_ was he making this so difficult for her? It was useless. She had to end it here. She had to end everything.

'Remus,' she said bleakly. 'I can't be anything to you. Not - even - your friend. I know you don't understand now, and you probably never will, but I have to do this on my own. I could be gone very soon and I don't want you to try and find me.' She put her hand to his heart. 'Forget me, Remus, just forget about me.'

Not waiting to hear his response, she ran back to the castle, leaving deepened footsteps in the crystalline snow. As she got closer to the steps, she staggered and tripped over her own feet, launching into the slush that lay beneath her.

She'd run away from him twice, she'd let things between the two of them go this far; she couldn't take the chance of letting them go any further. And she was afraid that all her will-power and self-control would be pushed beyond breaking point if she had to remain his friend and forget that anything had ever happened. That tonight had never happened.

There was only so much emotion Hermione could handle before she let herself go completely, and this emotion had been building up for far too long. She no longer felt like the intelligent, mature and rational witch she'd so often been perceived as – she felt like a vulnerable, frail little beetle that had been thrust unexpectedly onto its back and was now thrashing its arms and legs about, unable to get its head the right way up again.

Hermione simply lay in the snow, looking up at the now grey, cloud-ridden sky.

_It is official, _she thought_. I have hit rock bottom. And now I'm stuck there._

* * *

**A/N: **Don't kill yourselves yet.

Songs of ... INSPIRATION: Girls – The Beastie Boys (ha ha, purely for Sirius, really. 'Tis hilarious)

All You Want – Dido

Scared of You – Nelly Furtado

Next chapter: SNAPEY makes a return. As do the Dungeons ...


	10. A Slytherin Snake

**Chapter 9 – A Slytherin Snake**

After that night, Hermione had been trapped in total despondence. She hadn't talked to Remus at all, not even unemotional everyday chit-chat; and he hadn't pushed her to. He had not looked at her once either; not at meals, not in the common room, not in class - at least not that she had seen. He was completely avoiding her and this, she mused gloomily, was what she had basically asked him to do. So she should be happy, shouldn't she? Or, not surprised, at least. The most unfortunate matter was that because of her lack of association with Remus, she had also lost amity with James and Sirius. Lily was her only friend now and life was pretty much the pits.

Just when she thought not much else could possibly go wrong, something did. It was Hermione's last period of the week, double Potions held in the dungeons - her least favourite place in the castle and for good reason. It was dark, it was cold and it smelt like Snape. Ugh. She was relieved when class was over and she could go back to the dormitories to get ready for dinner. Plus, it was the weekend which meant she could spend as much time as she liked searching. She really had nothing better to do anymore and the sooner she left this time, the better. The students crowded out the door and she and Lily, who were the last out aside from Snape (who was lingering surreptitiously by his cauldron), were about to leave when Hermione felt a hand on her shoulder.

'Isabelle,' said a soft voice next to her ear. She turned around to find Snape standing there, looking at her with a glint in his eye.

'Yes, what do you want?' Hermione snapped, pulling away from him.

'We need to talk,' he demanded and she felt suddenly intimidated under his icy stare.

'Talk?' she repeated scathingly. 'What would _we _need to talk about?'

'Oh I think you'll find it best that you not argue,' he said with a twisted half-smile.

There was something going on, thought Hermione. She was sure of it. The triumphant look on Snape's face was very much like the look he often gave Harry, Ron and herself when he knew they had been up to no good. He had obviously not changed in the slightest over such a long period of time. This was all giving her an immense feeling of uneasiness.

She looked at Lily anxiously who returned her gaze and boldly said,

'She doesn't have to waste her time talking to you, Snape. Don't kid yourself.'

This remark left Snape looking unperturbed; in fact, he only smiled wider revealing a set of yellow, crooked teeth. He continued to stare unblinkingly at Hermione, who straightened up determinedly.

'I've been watching you lately,' he said in a sudden harsh voice, 'and I know what you're up to. I know where you're really from.'

Hermione felt Lily eye her enquiringly. 'I don't know what you're talking about,' she said to him while keeping her face impassive, ignoring her stomach's impulsive clench in alarm.

'Oh I think you do,' he replied, his eyes fixated coldly on hers.

'Isabelle, what is this?' asked Lily softly.

'Aha, so you haven't told your friends yet?' Snape arrogated.

Hermione wasn't sure if he actually knew or not; she didn't see how he possibly could, even if he _had_ been following her. Unless … unless he was prowling in the library that morning so long ago that she had spent going through Time Travel books. The little slime! She couldn't take the chance.

'Look Lily, I'll catch you up, OK?' she said, fraught to find out what this really was about.

'No Bel, I'm not leaving you alone with – ' 

'Just go, I'll be fine,' she whispered. Lily looked dubious. '_Please_.'

The green-eyed girl nodded against her will and hesitantly backed out of the room, glaring at Snape for all it was worth. Hermione caught a mouthed _be careful _and Lily was gone.

She was now faced with Snape alone.

_Could things be any worse? _she asked herself. The answer came immediately. _Two Snapes. Yes, that would be worse._

She'd thought too soon. Before Hermione could speak Snape had nimbly reached behind her and shut the door. With a resounding bolt she knew it was locked.

'What do you think you're doing?' she spluttered, quickly moving into the middle of the dungeon so that he would be unable to corner her.

'I just didn't want you running off anywhere this time,' he said, leering. Had he been watching her and Remus in the snow? The mere thought made her feel sick. She gave him a look of death, which didn't affect him in the slightest.

'Now,' he began, walking towards her slowly, 'like I said before, I've been watching you lately –'

'Spying on me, you mean,' Hermione spat, grasping her wand firmly inside her robes.

'Call it what you will,' he said coolly. He moved around her effortlessly and she didn't take an eye off him. 'Anyway, I've worked it out. I know you're from the future,' he finished simply.

Hermione felt as if a hand had served her a punch from the inside, although she badly hoped she didn't show it. She had always been exceptionally good at hiding emotion, keeping a cool head. It was just her way. She wasn't going give anything away yet; he might just be taking wild guesses.

_Extremely _wild guesses.

Hermione decided to take the condescending, you-belong-in-a-nuthouse type approach. 'I'm - I'm from where, excuse me?' She laughed offhandedly.

'A future time. I don't know how far forward, but far enough for you to be worried. And don't try to pretend you aren't,' he added as she gave him a patronizing look. 'I read the exact page of the book of Time you were reading due to a handy revealing charm on my part.'

'And what makes you think I wasn't going through it for research purposes only? I am studying the effects of time in space for my Astronomy N.E.W.T's, you know,' she asserted haughtily.

'Because if you were studying it for school then you wouldn't be so intent on finding what you lost so you can get back through that painting.' He smirked, knowing he'd hit the mark. Hermione's face crumpled - she couldn't retort to the raw, undeniable truth. Snape picked something out of his robes. It was a small flask with a cork for a stopper and it contained a clear liquid.

She gawped at him; he couldn't honestly expect her to drink any nasty little potion he had concocted, no matter what how clever he thought he was.

'Oh, _why _do you have to always be there constantly making my life that much more difficult, Snape?' she groaned, planning to run for the door the next time he turned his back. She could handle a simple unlocking spell with her eyes closed. 'Even when I go fucking time-travelling, you're there with your potions and your grease and your angsty hatred of the world.'

'I want you to tell me what happens in the future, everything you know,' he snarled, skipping to the point. 'And _angsty _isn't a word.'

'And what makes you think I'd tell you _anything_?' she snarled right back, knowing there was no more point trying to pretend anymore. 'And if I did? How would you know I wasn't lying?'

'That is precisely what this,' he came right up close to her and waved the potion in her face, 'is for.'

Suddenly whatever confidence or hope in getting out of the situation Hermione had vanished as recognition hit her like a ton of bricks. She had seen this potion in books before. It was both very illegal and very powerful, it was –

'Veritaserum,' she croaked, her eyes widening.

'That's right,' he said slickly. 'I see someone has been doing their homework.' Before she knew it, he had grabbed her wrists, causing her to drop her wand in alarm. She winced.

'Now,' he said through his teeth, his grip strong enough to overcome her mad struggling - she never would have expected Snape to be strong at all, 'you can give up and tell me now, or you can keep fighting. I'm just going to force feed this to you anyway.'

In all her despair, Hermione stopped struggling. Snape smiled greasily, though he didn't release his grip. 'Good, so you've come to your senses. I was wondering how long it would – _argh!_' He recoiled as he met the blow of the kick Hermione suddenly delivered him.

The flask of Veritaserum dropped to the stone floor with a small clang and shattered, the clear liquid oozing everywhere. Hermione wasted no time. While Snape got his breath back, she made a grab for her wand where it had fallen but her hand grasped air – it was _gone_.

She looked around frantically, where was it? The answer came immediately as Snape, now purple-faced with a vein pulsating on his neck, stood up straight and held up her wand.

'Don't even _think _about getting this back,' he growled with assent, gliding to the door, slipping out and slamming it shut.

Thinking fast, Hermione ran to it and tried to wrench it open before – too late. As soon as she reached it, she heard the clang of the bolt on the other side. She moaned in frustration and fell against the door, listening to the miserable echo of Snape's footsteps fading as she slid hopelessly to the cold stone floor.

* * *

**A/N: **Cheers, folks.

Yes, sorry to leave you hanging. I tend to do that a lot. evil laugh

Songs: Razz – Kings Of Leon, Just - Radiohead


	11. Dungeon Dwellings: Part Two

**A/N:** Hermione's stuck in the past. Well, now technically, she's stuck in the dungeons. Just when she loses hope, an unexpected visitor shows up.

Once again ... anyone interested in fanart?

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* * *

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**Chapter 10 – Dungeon Dwellings, Part Two**

'9998, 9999, 10000 …'

Hermione rested her head desolately against the wall she was sitting adjacent to. She had been counting the cracks on the dungeon wall inertly to pass the time, which, consequently, she had completely lost track of after what she had estimated to be three hours. This was undoubtedly the most time wasting, pointless and undignified activity she had ever participated in. She made a mental note to purchase and/or steal a watch from somewhere upon getting out.

It was just now that she was beginning to come to the conclusion that one: screaming incessantly and banging madly on the dungeon door for over half an hour would do no good as nobody could obviously HEAR HER and two: that Snape wasn't going to be coming back for a while. A very … long … while.

_Lousy pariah, _she thought tetchily as she let out a weary yawn. _I hope he drowns in his own grease._

Realizing how utterly improbable this prospect was, Hermione let out a small bitter laugh.

No, Snape was bad enough as a Hogwarts teacher, it was no wonder he was such a terror as a child. _His parents must have abused him,_ Hermione concluded. That or he was being raised by a troll. Hermione began to imagine Snape, a fat toddler with long black hair, waving around a troll club menacingly at all the other troll toddlers.

She smiled despite herself and closed her eyes tiresomely. It must have been getting late now, past dinner at least, and the time would pass so much quicker if she were asleep. She was just drifting off when she felt the touch of fur brush against her arm. She opened her eyes very suddenly and looked down. Scurrying across the floor was the biggest and ugliest rat Hermione had ever seen.

She screamed.

Several things happened at once. Hermione, who had detested rats more than anything since third year, stood up a little too quickly and backed into a table scattered with many different coloured mixtures compiled in flasks and bowls. It toppled over, of course, taking her with it and bringing on another scream. A brick also fell out of the wall Hermione had been leaning against, revealing a very small passageway.

Then, as the rat tried to scamper away, it began rapidly increasing in size and squeaked in fright when the table Hermione had backed into turned over. Trying to scramble under a shelf piled with cauldrons, it got too large and soon enough the entire ensemble was on the floor, generating a thundering clatter.

And as Hermione slowly sat up, wincing as she removed a sharp piece of glass from her hand, she screamed yet again at the sight that lay in front of her. Sitting amongst the mess of cauldrons and pieces of wood was a boy, shaking from head to toe and looking at her nervously.

'_Peter_?' she exclaimed.

--

Snape swept over to his now bubbling cauldron, smirking widely as he stirred its acidic contents. He glanced sideways at the stick of magic lying on the desk. If Isabelle Johnston was ever going to return to her own time, she would do it without a wand. After it met this potion that Snape had conveniently invented himself, it would be reduced to nothing more than sweltering gunk.

'Double double toil and trouble,' he chanted with a newfound determination then frowned, muttering to himself. 'I toiled and troubled over that stupid Time girl - spill my potion why don't you - spent a whole month concocting just for it to - I'll show her – Time is of the essence – Ah Severus, you are a clever chap … Double double indeed.'

--

'Er, hi,' Peter muttered, looking at the ground.

'What on earth are you - ?'

'Well I was … I was uh …' He bowed his head sadly. 'I suppose you're going to tell Professor Dumbledore that I'm a rat.'

He seemed dreadfully put out and in somewhat of a shock. Whatever he was doing down here, Hermione mused, he certainly wasn't expecting to see anyone, let alone herself. She'd just discovered his most prized and tremendous secret, and even though she knew it already, he didn't know she knew, and that made it sad. For a moment she actually felt sorry for him. Ew.

Hermione sighed and approached him slowly. He looked up at her rather like a little boy who'd lost his way. She held out her hand and he took it reluctantly, taking a step back from her as he stood and just managing to balance himself before he tripped over an empty cauldron.

'So, are you going to tell him?' he asked her timidly.

'Don't be stupid, I knew you were a rat long before you -' she stopped sharply as his brow furrowed. 'What I mean to say is that …' she tried to think quickly, but all her rationalization seemed to have disappeared out the door when Snape left, 'is that at my last school, Animagi were very, _very _popular. Yes that's right. Nearly everyone was an Animagus so I er, I learnt to read the signs. Pretty obvious, really.' She strained a laugh and looked at him anxiously, praying that he didn't know that there had been only seven registered Animagi recorded that century.

Peter looked confused.

'_So_,' Hermione added hurriedly to change the subject. 'What did you say you were doing here? It must be terribly late.'

'Nearing midnight and … it is not really_ your_ business …' Pah. He was dying to tell her. Sure enough –

'But if you _must_ know, I was … running a few errands.' He cleared his throat and swallowed. Hermione knew he was hiding something. She figured he must be up to mischief with Remus, Sirius and James. 'And what about you?'

'I was getting to that,' she said agitatedly. 'Now, you can't tell _anyone_ because I don't want to cause any trouble …' She paused and continued only when he nodded. 'You see, Snape cornered me after Potions and we got into an awful row because I refused to go out on a date with him. Anyhow, there was a lot of nastiness and shouting when he finally lost his temper, took my wand and locked me in here.' There was a silence. Peter scratched his scalp.

'That's not very nice,' he said obviously.

'No, it wasn't very nice at all.' She took a step towards him and looked him carefully in the eye. 'Now Peter, I need you to do something for me and it is very important.' She waited for his nod of accordance before continuing again, just in case he couldn't process more than one article of information at a time. She went on slowly and articulately. 'I need you to fetch my wand off Snape.'

'Wha - what?'

She should have waited longer.

'It shouldn't be very hard for you because you can creep around as a rat - literally. It's just, I have no other way of getting out and, well, I'm so distressed!' She burst into tears, and she had to admit to herself that it really was quite good emotional timing, for once. It wasn't that she was so upset about being locked in the dungeons but it was more a mixture of wanting Peter to agree, frustration and anger towards Snape and an aching to be back home.

'No, don't … cry,' Peter said awkwardly, and she could tell he had never faced a crying teenage girl before. He started backing away. 'I'll go get Remus or, or Sirius, or -'

'No!' she gasped, crying harder. 'You can't get them or they'll just make the situation worse. They'll beat up Snape for certain.'

Although this wasn't such a bad thing, Hermione knew that if this occurred then Snape would no doubt tell them everything about her and ruin any chances she may have had left of not changing the future.

'Please - you're _so_ brave Peter.' She was now lying through her teeth. 'I know that you can do it. If anyone can find Snape, you can.'

Hermione peeked at him through her fingers; she knew he had been carrying the Marauders Map with him and sure enough, he took out of his pocket a piece of parchment with small figures moving about it. He was trembling madly but he obviously knew he had no choice. He looked up.

'But how am I to get out when I myself don't have a wand?' he said thickly.

Hermione dropped her hands in irritation. 'The way you got in, dolt!'

His eyes finally showed the slightest hint of understanding and without warning, he morphed back into a rat and scurried into the small passage in the wall, away from sight.

Hermione let out a deep breath. She didn't mean to be harsh with him – oh, who was she kidding? Of course she did. He was nothing but an incompetent little follower, and soon-to-be betrayer. But at least he was going to get her out of here, if all went well. She lay down in the largest space of floor she could find that wasn't scattered with mess and before she could think anymore, was fast asleep.

--

James, Sirius and Remus sat in the deserted Gryffindor common room. James was fiddling with a Rubik's Cube, sitting with his feet up on an armchair. It was charmed to rearrange itself at random. Remus was staring blankly into the fire. He was sitting next to Sirius on the couch. The atmosphere was as about as uplifting as a slab of cement.

'Where the hell is Wormtail?' Sirius said grouchily. 'All he was supposed to do was pick up the worst potion he could find that would be soluble in Snape's pumpkin juice. What's he doing, tasting everything?'

'I wouldn't be surprised,' James added, not looking up. 'I knew one of us should've done it; the stupid git can't even get to the toilets by himself.'

'Have either of you seen Isabelle? She wasn't at dinner,' Remus interjected unexpectedly. Sirius and James looked cunningly at each other and then at Remus.

'Oh shit!' James exclaimed as with a ting, the Rubik's Cube rearranged itself. 'And I'd nearly solved the bloody thing.'

'Come to think of it, Moony, I haven't seen her all night,' said Sirius as James opened the window in the room with a swish of his wand, threw the puzzle out and closed it again.

'And if Isabelle's missing and Wormtail's missing …' he added, smiling slyly at Remus. Sirius followed suit.

Remus looked confused for but a moment before a look of horror spread over his face.

'Oh no,' he breathed.

--

Hermione found herself in the deepest slumber she had been in for weeks. She would often catch as little as three hours sleep every night, tossing and turning and thinking, trapped in the turbulent waves and dark shadows of her mind. Now all her unfathomable troubles and utter exhaustion seemed to sift away temporarily. She slept. And as she slept, she dreamed.

She dreamed she was walking around the lake on a bright summer's day. The sky was a periwinkle blue, the grass was as green and as fresh as she felt, and the sun was beating deliciously down upon her, filling her with warmth. The only things out of place were the trees that stood about her. Each tree that normally looked as healthy and alive as the grass was a dull grey colour, and seemed to droop in melancholy ambience. She found herself frowning every time she came to such a tree, but would look behind each of them without fail regardless. Hermione knew she was looking for something, but she was unaware what.

As she continued her stroll, a boy came out from behind one of the bigger trees.

'Surprise,' he said unenthusiastically. It was Harry.

'Oh, hello!' she greeted him from afar. 'I'm looking for flowers. Where's Lily?'

'Right here,' said Lily's voice and she too came out from behind the tree. Remus and Ron followed her. The three of them stood behind Harry, each looking terribly upset about something.

'What's the matter?' asked Hermione taking a tentative step towards them.

'They're not happy because you forgot about them Miss Granger,' Harry said, his eyes serious and deep.

'Did I?' Hermione said vaguely, moving closer to Harry. 'I didn't mean to.'

'Oh but you did,' he insisted, closing the remaining gap between them. He stared into her eyes – his were like storms welling, green storms. 'You wanted to forget us all, so you did.'

'I remember you, I do!' she spluttered insistently and made a grab for his hand, gasping as she touched thin air. She looked up at him, distraught, and noticed Remus, Lily and Ron all shaking their heads and moving slowly back behind the grey tree.

'Then why are we gone?' he asked, his voice now echoed and transparent.

Tears started rolling down Hermione's face and, in an attempt to hug him, instead fell straight through as if he wasn't there and onto the hard ground. The grass was now the same chilling shade of the trees, as was the sky. The sun's warmth disappeared and soon the rain began.

'Why are we gone?' he repeated, and vanished.

'Come back,' Hermione whispered as she lay in a puddle, cold to the pit of her stomach. 'I won't forget you, I promise.'

--

'Isabelle,' a voice that wasn't Harry's said. 'I'm back.'

Hermione opened her eyes and sat bolt upright, her breathing hard and fast. As if she had just been really crying, her eyes were stinging as she looked into the face of Wormtail. It showed no sign of concern but rather excitement, he indeed looked very proud of himself.

_Good. I mustn't look as bad as I feel, _Hermione thought to herself. 'What time is it?' she asked croakily.

'About 2am. It took me a while, but I had to get Snape to take his coat off and leave the room,' he explained smugly.

'What _happened_?' she said, now feeling much more awake.

'Oh, it was simple really,' he began. 'He was in an unused classroom making some sort of potion. I smashed him on the head with it and stole his coat.'

'Oh bravo,' Hermione said, sniggering. She hadn't really expected much from Peter Pettigrew, anyway. He, however, was bouncing from one foot to the other, beaming relentlessly with pride. Hermione concluded he'd missed her sarcasm.

'So …?' she asked.

'What?'

'Where is it?'

'Where's what?'

She shook her head disbelievingly. 'His coat!'

'Oh,' Peter laughed. 'I left it there.'

Hermione gave a tut of incredulity. 'But you did get the wand?'

Wormtail brought a long black wand out of his robes and twirled it proudly. 'Sure did!' he pronounced.

Hermione's face dropped as she looked at it. 'That isn't my wand,' she said point-blank.

Wormtail stopped twirling it immediately. 'It – it isn't your wand?' he echoed, the look of victory wiped straight off his face.

She walked over to him and held her hand out for it. He gave it to her.

'You see this?' She pointed to an engraving on the wand. 'S.S, Severus Snape.'

'Oh, well – I-' 

'I know you didn't mean to Peter,' she interrupted, trying not to sound irritated. 'Thankyou for doing this for me, anyway.' She was making an incredible effort to restrain from rolling her eyes. 'And at least it's a wand. I can escape with this and get mine back later.'

He gulped and nodded. Hermione made a poor effort to smile at him and made her way over to the door of the dungeon, stepping carefully over the array of broken glass, cauldrons and pieces of wood. She pointed Snape's wand to the lock and took a sharp intake of breath.

'_Alohomora!_' she chanted.

It was as if she had just broken into Buckingham Palace. An extraordinarily loud and high-pitched sound began emanating from the wand and she dropped it in alarm. Clamping her hands over her ears, she turned to Peter, white with shock. He too had his ears covered as the sound blared all around them.

'What's going on!' she tried to shout over the noise.

'What?' she saw Peter shout back - she couldn't actually hear him.

'I said –' she began but stopped as Peter's eyes widened.

He was looking behind her and pointing to something. Hermione followed his gaze and stepped back as a black beam began sifting out of Snape's wand. It was moving towards her at rapid speed. She frightfully continued to step back and felt herself reach the wall. The black beam approached her and before she could comprehend, it had formed a great black cage around her.

Abruptly as if someone had just pressed the off button, the sound impeded, leaving Hermione and Peter in a dead silence. They exchanged disorientated looks.

'You've got to be joking,' was all Hermione could utter.

Peter was effectively pulsating with fear. His hair had plastered sweatily to his fat head and his face was bright red. God, he was ugly. Hermione scrunched up her face in half-concern, half-disgust.

'Calm down, you're not the one in a cage here,' she defused.

Honestly, she knew he was a bit of a sissy, but not to such an extent. How he became friends with James, Remus and Sirius she never knew. She was about to assure him that she was the one who was going to get in trouble - not him, when she heard footsteps approaching. Her heart skipped a beat.

'Turn back, _quick_!' she hissed as she heard Snape chant something and the bolt clank.

Wormtail wasted no time and squeaked as he turned back into a rat, running as fast as his little legs would take him out the small passageway in the wall.

'Coward,' she muttered under her breath as the door opened, revealing a not-so-happy Snape. His jaw fell as he noticed the mess around the room. She gave him a look of thorough bewilderment.

'What on _earth _was that?' she said at once. Snape picked his wand up off the ground and looked at her almost fearfully. His voice however, was flat.

'I see you somehow attained my wand although I can't imagine how. It has, and very luckily I might add, various hexes to make sure no one but I uses it.'

'And an alarm,' Hermione added.

'And an alarm.'

'Trust you to have an alarm on your wand, Snape.' She slumped to the ground of the cage, crossing her legs and looking up at him condescendingly.

'You are dead,' he stated in the same flat tone.

Hermione let out a haughty laugh. 'You can't do anything to me.'

'Why not? You've no hope of getting out of that cage without a wand. I created it myself.'

'What an achievement,' she said sardonically. 'And you can't kill me because Dumbledore would know and you'd be sent straight to Azkaban.'

'Well I can't very well let you go, you'd tell on me,' he said, sounding particularly like a five year-old kindergarten bully.

'Damn straight,' she averred. 'I mean … no, I'd never do such a thing.' She batted her eyelids at him, causing the vein on his neck to return, bigger and better than ever before.

'Fine, I'll just leave you to rot,' he said, his eyes gleaming with malice.

'Snape, this is a frequently used classroom. Someone will come eventually,'

'Before you starve?' he posed menacingly.

Hermione crossed her arms. 'Humans _can _last up to two weeks without food and water.'

'How do youknow that?' he spat.

'I saw it on a World Vision ad,' she said briskly.

'What?'

'In other words, you've screwed up your plan, Snapey.'

The vein looked dangerously close to popping, Snape was angrier than when she had smashed the potion. Hermione figured it was because he knew he had lost again - as always.

'FINE then, you – you -' he called her a range of very colourful names. 'I'll let you go.'

She clucked angrily. 'About bloody time.'

'But bear in mind that I can reveal you to anyone I like, anytime I choose. I have the power to make it so that you were never born and if you so much as hint to Dumbledore that I -'

'If you tell anyone, Dumbledore will just expel you,' she cut off evenly.

'Ha!' he interjected, moving closer to the cage and glaring through the thick bars at her. 'I'm not going to fall for that, _Isabelle_, although that probably isn't even your name. Not even Dumbledore would expel me for letting a bit of information I came across slip. I could just turn around and say that while we were sharing _passionate_ moments together,' and he smiled at this remark, 'you told me _everything_ and I felt it my duty as a Slytherin prefect to let people know the truth. MWAHAHAHA!' He burst into malignant mirth that sounded more forced than anything. Hermione couldn't help feeling impressed despite herself.

'Wow, talk about evil scheme of the century - complete with the laugh and everything.'

'Why, thankyou,' he said, smirking.

'Now tell me, how many times did you practise that in front on the mirror before you came here?'

'Argh!' Snape let out a yell of rage and with a wave of his wand, made the cage disappear. 'Just get out of my sight, you stupid girl!'

Hermione triumphantly walked to the doorway and paused.

'Thanks,' she said, grinning. 'Oh, and sorry about the little disorder I created …'

She looked around the room. 'I was a little bored. Have fun cleaning!'

She bolted up the stairs from the dungeon, chuckling to herself. It would take a powerfully strong clean-up spell to get the room back to its original state, and she strongly doubted that Snape was a mastermind at domestic magic. It certainly seemed that way as Snape, who had forgotten completely about the state of the room let out another menacing scream that echoed up the staircase and into the night.

--

Hermione didn't stop running until she reached the Fat Lady's portrait where she stopped and collapsed against the wall to catch her breath. She was so relieved to get out of the Dungeons, away from Snape, that she must have acquired momentary fitness. Well, it was fading - fast. She pushed off the wall and looked up at the Fat Lady who was snoring loudly in her frame, fast asleep.

'Excuse me,' Hermione said, panting, but the Fat Lady didn't stir.

'I said, _excuse me_,' she repeated more loudly this time, 'but I really need to get into the –' she broke off, knowing this wasn't doing any good. 'WAKE UP!' she shouted and the Fat Lady jolted awake.

'My, My!' she said crossly. 'All I ask is for a whole night's sleep but _no_ they don't even give me that. This is the _second_ time I've been woken up and I have a right mind to –'

'Veritas,' Hermione interrupted exhaustedly; she was far too tired to be polite at this stage.

With an angry huff the Fat Lady swung open her portrait and Hermione climbed into the Gryffindor common room. Right now, all she wanted to do was sleep for about a _year_.

As the portrait closed behind her and she turned around, she froze.

Remus, Sirius, James and Peter were all staring at her. Sirius and James were standing above Peter, who was sitting looking guilty on the couch. Remus was in an armchair by the fire, looking at her with an unreadable expression.

'Well, well, well,' said Sirius. 'Look who's back.'

* * *

**A/N: **Ouch! Thanks to Jay for helping me with the idea for that scene.

Sooooooooongs: Brain Damage – Pink Floyd (I think it should be the theme, haha), Trouble Sleeping – The Perishers (beeeautiful)


	12. Falling Through Time

**A/N: **It's getting interesting now ...

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 11 – Falling Through Time**

'What are you all _doing _here?' Hermione said incredulously. 'It – it's nearly 3 am!'

'We were surfing, Isabelle!' James said vibrantly. 'Like we always do at this hour.'

She crossed her arms impatiently. Everyone turned to James in puzzlement; Sirius was mouthing wordlessly at him, shaking his head.

James shrugged. 'It sounded good in my head.'

Hermione established silently that this had been the strangest day of her life; maybe not the most dangerous, the most life-altering or the most significant, but most definitely the strangest.

'Meanwhile,' Sirius maintained,'_you_ were having fun in the dungeons with Snape. Oh yes, Peter told us everything.' He grinned rather like a lion about to eat its newly captured prey. That is, if lions grinned at all.

Hermione nearly screamed out in frustration. She tried to catch Peter's eye but he seemed to be avoiding her. Maybe he felt ashamed of running away, or maybe he just wanted to be the praised centre of attention, the one everyone listened to.

'Ugly, rat-faced little twerp,' she muttered. He was looking down, his hands clasped together sweatily. What had the rotten slime been telling them?

'You were spying on me,' she indicted crossly.

'Nah,' James asserted with a wave of his hand. 'Just observing what you were doing.' The others grunted in agreement.

'That's what spying _is_!' she pointed out edgily.

'So what's the deal with you and Snivelly, eh?' Sirius said, ignoring her. 'His grease appealing, I suppose. It gives him that whole straight-out-of-the-shower look - without the whole clean aspect of it,' he added as an afterthought. 'But showers can be fun, you know, lots of nakedness. And Snape naked, well let me tell you –' as he registered the words that had just left his mouth, Sirius hunched over and pretended to vomit.

Hermione screwed her face up in disgust. She was far too tired for explanations or an argument; she had been cooped up for almost seven hours in the dungeons and wasn't in a particularly loquacious or jokey mood. She tried to ignore Remus looking at her with that x-ray vision he seemed to be able to spring up on her on random occasions- it was very unsettling.

'I'm not going to put up with this,' she said tiredly, trudging up to bed and leaving the four Marauders to say whatever on earth they felt like saying about her.

--

Hermione woke up somewhere near midday. She hardly ever slept in, she was far too fidgety and organized for that - but just like in the dungeons, her pending exhaustion had finally gotten the better of her.

It was the Quidditch final between Gryffindor and Slytherin, and James, of course, would be playing. Lily had tried to stir her earlier to come and watch training but she had merely rolled over grouchily and fallen back to sleep. She wasn't a fan of Quidditch, but she did plan to attend the game at some point, at least for a little while. It _was _Harry's father after all, and just thinking about how he would have died to be in her shoes at the moment sent shivers of guilt down her spine. The match, however, was conveniently being held later in the afternoon – a twilight game. This consequently gave Hermione adequate time to do – absolutely nothing. What could be more perfect?

After conning a house elf in the common room into giving her some food, Hermione began walking around the deserted common room, thinking about nothing in particular and munching nonchalantly on an apricot Danish. She didn't know where she was going, or why, but she kept walking anyway.

She finished off her nauseatingly sweet breakfast, rather regretting consuming such a meal when she strongly preferred savoury, and reached her hand into her robes for something to wipe her mouth with. Her hands fell upon her handkerchief and so she began to dab it at the corners of her mouth where the powdered sugar had embedded itself. All of a sudden, something dropped to the ground with a small clink.

Hermione looked down at the circular object that rolled along the stone floor, stopping several inches from her feet. She paused for a moment and then went gingerly to pick it up. It was Remus's ring.

Gleaming and iridescent in her hand, the blue gems stood out brighter than ever before, catching the light of the common room's fire. She squeezed it tight, and not knowing what it would accomplish, placed it for the first time on her long and slender ring finger. It fit with perfect ease. Looking around, Hermione put her handkerchief away and left the common room, smiling.

After walking absent-mindedly through the various and expansive Hogwarts corridors for what must have been a quarter of an hour, Hermione found herself somewhat astonished. She had not noticed it before, but there was a corridor aligned with an array of fascinating paintings - paintings she had never seen before in the past, or the future.

Each of them was of people going about their general, everyday business, but something was striking about them. There was a traditional group of witches in black pointed hats dancing around a cauldron, two children with lollipops talking animatedly on broomsticks and attractively armoured knights at war.

There was also a handsome collection of individual portraits surrounding her, with one that was especially intriguing. It was an elderly man in a silken maroon bed robe with the initials B.F.P sewed across the front pocket in elaborate gold lettering. His white hair was plastered neatly to his wrinkled head and he had a curled up moustache to match. In his hand he held a carefully mahogany-carved pipe, and the eerie rainbow smoke sifting out of it was the only part of the painting in motion.

Hermione moved closer to the canvas while still keeping a couple of inches distance; she didn't want to fall into some other freak time warp. The man's face was serious and unwavering - not even his eyes blinked. She stared.

'Do you know exactly who you are staring at?' a deep British accent boomed. 'Very rudely in fact.'

Hermione stumbled backwards in shock and fell down.

'Obviously you don't you stupid, stupid girl,' the man in the painting announced arrogantly, looking down at her half with repulsion, half with haughty enjoyment.

Hermione glared at him. 'Ow,' she said reproachfully, heaving herself up.

'I,' he said, sticking his chest out with a breath of proud air, 'am master of the house. That is, Billup F. Phillip.'

'What does the F stand for?' she asked.

'Never you mind!' he snapped, taking a puff of his pipe.

Hermione raised an eyebrow but didn't push the issue. 'Master of the house, eh?' she repeated dryly. 'And exactly which house would that be?'

'The house of F'thair in Buckinghamshire,' he said impatiently. 'Now tidy up your hair.'

Hermione put her hands on her hips - he was starting to irritate her now. 'You can't tell me what to do, you're just a painting,' she pointed out heatedly.

He took another puff of his pipe and blew out the smoke so that it no longer remained inside the picture, but instead drifted out and into Hermione's face. She coughed uncomfortably - it smelt of vanilla essence and teabags.

'I_ can_ tell you what to do, ungrateful child,' she heard him say as she waved the smoke away. 'I am your elder.'

'You're a piece of canvas,' she retorted. 'I'm leaving now.' She started walking away.

'You will apologize for your discourtesy,' he said loudly.

Hermione threw up a hand in dismissal without stopping.

'APOLOGIZE CHILD!' a chorus of voices coming from all the different paintings shouted in unison.

Hermione recoiled, holding her hands over her ears. They continued to yell and jeer at her, and what instantly sprung to her mind was a group of football supporters closing in on a barracker of the opposing team. She was being ordered around by paintings; what she couldn't work out was whether it was degrading, amusing or just plain absurd.

_All three, _she decided as she marched back to Billup. He was still smoking and she could see his smugness even behind the colourful smoke and glamour of his demeanour.

'You – I don't like you,' she said ardently, pointing at him.

'You like the one who gave you that.' He eyed her ring complacently. 'I saw you clutching it wholeheartedly as you were walking down the hall.'

Hermione felt her cheeks grow hot, both in anger and embarrassment. 'I hope you get taken down and thrown into some horrible little attic somewhere because I assure you that -'

She didn't get to finish her sentence as a hand grabbed her arm and started pulling her firmly down the hall. It was Lupin.

'Remus,' she hissed, trying to pull away. 'What are you doing?'

'I'm dragging you down a hallway, what does it look like?' he said quite unaffectedly, a determined spark in his eyes.

She tried to resist again but he was too strong for her. Remus never looked the type to be so strong; she supposed a lot of it came as a side effect from his werewolf tendencies. Even so, his build was lean without a lot of muscle, and he hardly ever played sport.

Hermione growled as the sound of hollow superior laughter echoed down the corridor after them.

'You just wait Billup!' she shouted behind her. 'I'll make a bonfire out of you one day!'

'Stop threatening the artwork,' Remus scolded, pulling her into a deserted classroom, much like she'd done to him not long ago.

Once he had the door shut, he let her go. She stepped back and looked at him dangerously.

'Now,' he said resolutely, leaning against it and crossing his arms. 'What's going on?'

'Why aren't you watching James?' Hermione questioned bracingly, ignoring him.

He shrugged. 'Quidditch isn't really my thing - he knows that. I came back early.'

She gave him a disbelieving glare and he let out a small sigh. 'Okay, I give in …' He looked away with irritation, tongue tentatively in cheek. 'I was worried about you.'

Hermione laughed cynically and walked over to the window; the grey sky was almost spectral in its murk. 'Worried?' she repeated frigidly. 'I haven't talked to you in over a week. Why should you be worried?'

'Because I care about you, that's why.' She heard him push off the door and soon felt his presence behind her.

Hermione, although still feeling slightly tetchy, was secretly pleased to hear this. She'd been so scared that he'd started to dislike her, it was almost nauseating.

He pulled loosely at a few strands of her hair. 'And I want to know what's happening with you Isabelle 'cos I hate being stranded in the dark.'

She froze up at the unexpected contact, wanting desperately for it to continue but willing him to stop. He dropped his hand and Hermione swallowed, hoping that wasn't sweat dripping down the back of her neck. She squeezed her eyes shut, angry at herself for not being able to control her emotions.

'_Nothing_ is happening, Remus,' she insisted, turning around suddenly. 'For God's sake, I wouldn't, couldn't and won't _ever_ go near Snape unless I absolutely have to. So please don't, _especially _don't, imagine anything else.'

She shuddered again at the prospect of her and Snape. How anyone could think that she would ever do anything with him was beyond reason to vomit; it made her want to die … or make Snape die. Either way, death was the answer.

'I'm not just talking about that,' persevered Lupin, but calmly and without blame in his voice. 'You've been acting like this for a while now; I know that there's something bothering you.' He took her now limp hands beseechingly. 'I just wish that you'd _tell _me, Isabelle.' Her head was hurting. 'You keep playing me around and – well, how can I trust someone if I know they're hiding something from me? And you've been hiding something – for fuck's sake - you've been hiding _from me_ right from the start.'

She pulled away and bit her bottom lip as if the pain in it would lift the pain in her heart. Like a vicious roar of thunder inside her head, there it was: he'd said it, he didn't trust her.

And really, she hadn't given him much of a reason to: always ignoring him when he asked questions she couldn't answer, or running away when he became too intense. Yet she trusted_ him_; she trusted him with all her heart, so didn't that automatically initiate some sort of two-way contract? She felt torn between sadness and resentment.

'If you can't trust me, then why do you care?' she demanded fiercely.

He didn't say anything, instead letting go of her hands and turning with an uneasy shift. Hermione felt a newfound confidence firing inside of her. 'I've done nothing but play you around, after all.'

She stepped towards him, not caring if he was hurting or laughing or wanting to slap her. It was about time she got a word in that wasn't dismissed or laughed at or taken the wrong way in this fucked up time. His silence was beginning to get to her.

'Hey!' she exclaimed, waving a hand in front of his face. 'You're right! I'm the one who's dragged you everywhere with me, and led you on, and hidden things from you. I'm the one who you kissed in the snow and who ran away without explanation. I'm the one who you found in the hallway four months ago and looked after and befriended and still treated you like dirt so _please _Remus, tell me,' her voice dropped to a raging whisper. 'Exactly why is it that you still _care?'_

'Because I'm in love with you!' he blurted out, turning back to her violently.

Hermione stared at him, feeling her mouth dry up. Remus too, looked bewildered at his own words.

'There's your answer, whoopdee doo. I love you and there's nothing I can do about it and it's killing me.' He threw his hands out helplessly and quietened his voice. 'Is that a good enough reason to care?'

She stood in silence for a while, trying to make her brain register his words properly; trying to believe and to _know _that this was all real, that this was all happening. Was it possible that Remus Lupin, who she'd known since she was twelve, was standing miserably in front of her, proclaiming his love? It couldn't be.

'I still can't tell you,' she said quietly.

Remus made a strangled sound. 'Why not?' he said shortly. 'Is it really that bad? Because I want to help you, I _want _to trust you but I can't! I can't do a thing unless you _say_ something, Bel!'

Her head suddenly felt very heavy as his eyes bore into her own. 'You really want to know?' she said croakily. 'Fine, I'll tell you.'

The words poured out of her like a waterfall and once she began, it was impossible to stop.

'First of all, my name isn't _Isabelle Johnston_ - it's Hermione Granger. I'm from the year 1998 and in my time, I fell through a painting and landed into this year. The only one who knew was Dumbledore and he told me I couldn't get back to my own time unless I found this unknown thing I was supposed to have _somehow_ lost. So I've had to lie to absolutely everyone in order not to change the future which isn't the easiest thing in the world, let me tell you … I've had to forget about everything I know, and not even half of what I know is good news.' She let out an irrepressible sob before continuing.

'I've had to forget that you're my teacher at school who's twenty years older than me, that Sirius fell through some anonymous veil and got himself killed, that James and Lily married and had my best friend Harry Potter then went and got_ themselves_ killed by an evil wizard - thanks to Peter betraying them. And so, you're left old and alone and almost always without a job. And _I_, I am stuck here trying to convince Snape not to tell the whole school all of this because the idiot has been spying on me enough to know, which is why he cornered me after Potions yesterday, which is why he tried to feed me Veritaserum and locked me in the dungeons all night, which is why I just want to _go home_!'

Hermione finished with a pant and tried to catch her breath. Those last lines had come out of her so fast that she hadn't yet had time to breathe. She began shivering unpleasantly, overwrought with emotion.

'So there's the truth!' she moaned, her voice cracking. 'Are you _happy_ now?'

Remus stood stock still - his face was white. He knew she wasn't lying; there was no doubt about that. Hermione's eyes widened and she put her hand to her mouth. What had she just done?

Not waiting for his response, Hermione sprinted out of the classroom, not looking behind her once.

--

Hermione took refuge in the library as there was hardly anybody in there and she needed to be alone. Sitting behind the Z shelf, she held her knees up to her chest and wept silently into them. It had felt so good to just _tell _someone; she'd been yearning to for so long. And although she felt desperately relieved in one way, she felt twice as much panic in another.

Her secret, her _future-altering_ secret was out and there was nothing she could do about it. She'd not only told Remus about herself, but she'd choked out the fates of him and all his friends too. How could she have been so _stupid? _What if he tried to warn them? What if he tried to change something? Hermione felt another jolt of alarm - what if he _told _someone about her? That would mean people would be chasing her up, asking her questions – she'd have to deny everything of course. Some people may never be born and it was all _her fault_, all because she'd let her guard down for a fleeting instant.

She stopped sobbing and rested her chin on her knees. Too caught up in the trouble she'd caused, she had temporarily forgotten what Remus had said to her.

He had told her that he loved her.

Hermione realized with a start that this was worse than anything else. They were from different time eras. He wasn't allowed to love her. It was absurd, it was pointless, it was impossible …

_Then why are you feeling so happy? _A little voice inside her said.

She groaned and leant against the bookshelf. _Shut up you, _she replied to it.

_Hermione,_ she thought furiously,_ what's _wrong_ with you? You can keep composed – it was just a few words._

'Isabelle?' a voice said, interrupting her reverie. 'Are you all right?'

She looked up, startled, to see Sirius. She stood up quickly, sniffing and wiping her eyes hastily with the back of her hand.

'Oh yes,' she said, laughing, 'I'm quite fine.'

'You look like you've been crying,' he said in concern. He was holding a large book in his hands. It read: _Zap: The Top 100 Things to Turn Your Enemies Into_.

'I was just a little homesick,' she said unconvincingly and then to change the subject added, 'what's with the book?'

'Oh, this?' he said after a moment, looking at it and furrowing his brow. He seemed to have forgotten he'd been carrying it. 'You see, I'm studying books with _Zap _in the title. Bit strange but someone has to do it.' He gave a nervous laugh and put the book away. 'So, how about we get to the game, eh? It's about start.'

Hermione let him steer her away, pleased that she'd expunged the attention from herself and planning to keep it that way.

--

Hermione and Sirius made their way out to the Quidditch pitch. It was five minutes to five o'clock, when the game was scheduled to start, and the stands were bursting with excited students. The atmosphere was electric.

Hermione felt bad for not having watched a game all year, and she was actually feeling a little anticipation for this one. Sirius explained to her that he was the Quidditch commentator asked if she would like to join him up in the top box, where the best seats were. She was about to answer when she stopped, putting a hand to his shoulder and a finger to her lips.

They had been walking around the outside of the oval, away from all the mayhem, and had a direct view of beneath the stands. Underneath the Gryffindor stand stood Lily and James. James' broomstick was by his feet - he was fully geared up in his Quidditch robes, and Lily was wearing his favourite maroon windcheater which was far too big for her. They were kissing as if their life depended on it. She was leaning against a post, her arms wrapped around James's neck. Hermione's jaw dropped, and she turned to see Sirius's reaction – he was grinning madly.

'Glad they finally came to their senses,' he whispered closely to her. 'The benighted idiots.'

Hermione snorted, causing Lily and James to spring apart instantly. When they saw who it was, they both displayed different reactions. James smirked and Lily blushed, although she was smiling. There was a silence, but not for long.

'Ha!' yelled Sirius, going over and slapping them both on the back jovially. 'Congratulations to the both of you. About bloody time! Ah –' he stopped, looking at his watch. 'Gotta run.' He gave one last laugh of exuberance and hurried off to the top box.

Hermione and Lily giggled at his enthusiasm, and as soon as trumpets sounded from somewhere and an angry voice yelled out, 'Potter, get over here!'

The players had already mounted their brooms as a torrent of sound erupted from the stands.

'Oops, that's my cue!' James said in haste. He rumpled his hair and gave Lily one last kiss.

'I'll see you later,' he said with a grin.

'Good luck,' she responded, kissing him back.

He grabbed his broom and started to leave when he ran back to Hermione. 'Thanks,' he said, standing there awkwardly.

'Oh get out of here,' Hermione laughed. 'You're late!'

He nodded to her in gratitude and ran off, an extra spring in his step.

--

'And a fantastic score for Gryffindor by the lovely Kiara Randall. Keep it up, beautiful!'

Hermione could almost hear Sirius wink as his amplified voice boomed around the crowd.

She and Lily were standing amongst the Gryffindors. Lily was cheering the team on eagerly while Hermione was looking around anxiously, keeping an eye out for Remus.

'So, you and James are official now?' she said, applauding as James did a magnificent twirl in the air. He really did fly like Harry. Both made each and every move look as easy as if they were walking, it was a natural grace for the air that she'd never seen in anybody else.

'I suppose we are,' Lily trilled. 'Isn't he amazing?'

Hermione smiled, glad to see Lily so happy. She hadn't wiped the grin off her face all night. The game had been going on for two hours and it was now dark. The Quidditch pitch was being kept alight by magic.

'So … what about you and Remus?' Lily asked.

Hermione felt a drop of rain land on her wrist and then a few more. She looked up to see the stars covered by a colossal rain cloud. 'Oh,' she said looking down and putting on a false smile. 'I don't think there's a real chance in that.'

'And Slytherin score. Not very fairly I might add – considering they trapped_ our keeper_! The evil little -' Sirius said an array of very friendly words then added, 'Gryffindor on 20 points, Slytherin 50.'

Hermione looked up to see the Gryffindor keeper shaking his fists at two snickering Slytherins. The nearby students were yelling in protest.

'That's a real shame then,' commented Lily, looking at Hermione with intent.

'Where is Remus, anyway?' Hermione asked, not bothering to sound casual.

'I was going to ask you,' Lily said, looking back out to the field. 'No one's seen him since lunch.'

Hermione stirred uneasily but didn't say anything.

'Look, Isabelle,' Lily said seriously, her eyes still on the game. 'I just want to tell you that – well, make sure you don't hold off doing something that might make you happy because of a few little glitches or complications. It's not worth missing out on something that could be _so _wonderful. Life's too short, you know.'

The drops of rain turned into a violent pour, soaking the crowd in instants. A fork of lightning flashed violently across the sky. It made it very hard for the players, who were struggling to stay on their broomsticks.

Hermione thought carefully about what Lily had said. She had quite clearly implied that she and Remus should get together but what nobody could understand except Hermione was that she _couldn't_ be with him. She'd told herself this countless times, although she was confused as to why it wasn't sinking in yet. It was just wrong, simple as that. And three little words couldn't possibly change that.

But then she remembered how her heart had skipped a beat when he had said those words. She remembered how wonderful it had felt when he had kissed her in the snow. She remembered all the times they had laughed together, cried together, argued together, smiled together; all the moments they'd locked eyes and a buzz of electricity had seemed to flow between them.

And then as if a choir of churchgoers had sung out _Hallelujah_, she suddenly knew something. It was as transparently clear to her as it would have been if a flock of bluebirds had held up a sign saying it in big, fancy letters. And it happened in the same moment that James made a spectacular dive for the Snitch; the crowd had gone almost silent holding their breath.

She loved him too.

A mixture of hisses and cheers exploded throughout the ground: the ecstatic applause of the Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws winning easily over the Slytherins angry jeers. James had caught it.

'And with a _brilliant _catch of the Snitch by James Potter, Gryffindor win the House Cup!' Sirius' voice shouted over the crowd, causing everyone to hold their ears.

Lily was jumping up and down and screaming, as were the surrounding students, but Hermione stood completely still and repeated in her mind what she thought she had just thought.

_She loved him too._

And she not only loved him, she was _in _love with him. She was in love with Remus Lupin. But she had to make sure.

'I love Remus Lupin,' she said aloud, almost smiling.

'What?' Lily shouted over the noise.

There it was; it was set it stone. And it didn't feel wrong or absurd, it felt right. It felt more right than anything else had this year; she had to let him know.

About to go and find him, Hermione stopped. What if, after hearing her explode at him with the truth, he didn't want to see her? Maybe it was too much for him. He might be mad.

She punched herself in the head. _No, I will not back out of this one. I'm going to find him._

Pushing through the crowd, Hermione started to run. She knew exactly where Remus would be.

She became blind to the celebrations and the happiness of the rest of the school as she ran away from the pitch and through the grounds.

The rain was whipping her hard in the face and she could barely see, but she didn't care, this was her life right here and now. This was all that mattered and she had forgotten any sense or logic that might have been present if she hadn't been so determined. Just like when the words had gushed out of her and she'd told Remus everything, now that she'd started running she couldn't slow down.

She flew through the trees, her socks drenched from the slush and water that her feet were splashing through. The cheers were getting more and more distant. She vaguely felt herself start to cry but couldn't be sure as she was so wet already. She came out of the trees into the familiar clearing by the cold banks of the lake.

Remus was standing there, looking out at the water, just as she'd known he would be. She stopped at a distance and just looked at him for a moment. This was it.

As if sensing her presence, Remus turned around. His face was grim but as kind and giving as she remembered it from the first time she'd met him, both in the past and present. Now all she could see was him, and the rest of the world was a blur.

She ran a hand through her hair and walked gradually towards him, watching the rain dripping off his face, hair and clothes.

'Remus I'm so sorry,' she gulped. 'I didn't mean to blurt the truth out like that. I just couldn't help it and everything has been going wrong and I know you must hate me now but I -'

He looked straight into her eyes and she felt her heart beating so wildly and her skin tingling so fiercely that she almost didn't feel real.

_Enough beating around the bush,_ she thought severely.

'I love you,' she said finally. 'I'm _in love _with you.'

He didn't say anything.

'And I know you might not think I'm serious because, well, you don't trust me, but I am. I've been in love with you since the first time I met you this year, I just didn't know it until now so please try and forgive me because I really -'

'Ssh,' he whispered gently, putting a finger to her lips. 'It's okay.'

Stroking her cheek with a trembling finger, Remus very slowly brought his lips to her own quivering ones.

Her whole being erupted into a rocket of frantic emotion - it was like nothing she'd ever experienced before. The whole world went completely silent.

She closed her eyes and leaned into his kiss. She couldn't see or hear or smell. All she could do was feel, feel his body pressed desperately against hers and taste a mixture of tears, rainwater and the moment that she was utterly captured in. She blindly felt his hands cradling her head, running over every inch of it as if to make sure she was real. Her arms were wrapped tight around him, her fingernails gripping the back of his neck as their kiss became as deep and as vital as the ocean of their fierce need of one another. Every touch of his lips sent bolts of electrocuting bliss zapping through her nerve endings.

'I love you too Hermione Granger,' he said, breathing into her skin. 'I'm never going to stop.'

Hermione felt beyond happiness, hearing him say her real name. She looked into his eyes once more, this time feeling completely lost in them. He started to kiss her again; not as fast or as desperately, but more lingeringly and tender. As she began responding, she gasped and pulled away slightly, suddenly feeling as if someone had hooked something heavy into her back.

'What's wrong?' he asked, his eyes anxious.

'I – don't know,' Hermione spluttered.

She felt a pulling sensation, almost like a Portkey but far more intense. A bright light erupted around her and as she felt herself being slowly dragged backwards. She saw Remus's eyes widen with horror and realization, and she knew what was happening. She was returning, returning to the present.

'No Hermione, don't leave me now,' he said desperately, clinging to her as her hands started slipping out of his.

The light brightened and she felt his hands leave her own. The last thing she saw was his face, with his shaking lips that were being touched by deserted tears and the eyes that had taken her captive from the moment she'd met him.

_No, _she thought frantically, _I can't go back now. _She tried to make a dive for him but yelped in pain as the invisible hook dug deeper into her, threatening to tear her apart. There was nothing she could do as the light fully engulfed her.

And she was falling again.

There were no more colours but in their place, blackness; a blackness that was darker than Hermione had ever known to exist. Her rain-drenched body was now lifeless and it seemed as if she had no feeling left in this place. However, soon the bright light caught her once again and she was thrown into reality in the same moment that she had a flashback of everything that had happened to her in 1978.

* * *

**A/N: **Whoa.

Songs: You Got Me All Wrong- Dios, Porcelain - Moby (straight from when Hermy leaves the Quidditch pitch)


	13. Inside Out, Outside In

**Chapter 12 – Inside Out, Outside In**

Hermione very slowly opened her eyes and sat up with a start. She'd been lying in the middle of the corridor leading to the Fat Lady's portrait – precisely, she remembered, where she'd fallen through the Painting of Time. It was gone, of course.

She looked down at her arms to make sure they were real and was startled to find herself still in her past clothes – still sopping wet - and with Remus's ring still on her finger, twinkling in the dim light of the surrounding lanterns. She trailed over it unsteadily with her other hand, and looked up. The corridor was deserted and silent, and Hermione couldn't help but feel very much alone. She looked at her watch - it was just past eleven at night.

Shaking a little and breathing in short, sharp gasps, Hermione forced herself to get up. After trying and failing to compose herself, she started fretfully walking to the only place that seemed to make sense – Dumbledore's office.

She couldn't help asking herself what would happen now. Would she just go back to regular life and forget everything that had happened? She couldn't possibly. She'd experienced something phenomenal and she'd made so many good friends along the way.

Her eyes welled up as she thought of Lily, and how much she'd miss her friendship – she'd been the only true female friend Hermione had ever had. And how she could forget Sirius and James, the ones who always could make her laugh, even when she wanted nothing more than to cry. And what – what about Remus?

'Hermione!' a familiar voice called loudly from behind her. 'Hey stop, will you?'

The patter of two pairs of feet caught up to her as she turned around to see her best friends, Harry and Ron. Her throat tightened.

'Where have you been all night? We haven't seen you around since dinner,' carped Ron.

'Three guesses where.' Harry grinned knowingly.

Ron gave a forged look of deep thought. 'Hmm, tough one, Harry. Could she possibly have been in – the _library_?'

'Naw,' Harry said. 'What would she be doing there?'

Ron clucked. 'Yeah … dunno what I was thinking, really.' He shot a sideways smirk at Harry, who was now looked genuinely puzzled.

'Why are your robes all wet?' Harry asked her. 'Hang on … _are _they even your robes? They look different. They look really …'

'Old?' chipped in Ron, cocking his head to one side.

Hermione burst into tears and hugged them both tightly. 'Oh I've missed you two so much!' she howled.

Harry and Ron looked irrefutably startled.

'Hermione, what the hell is wrong with –' Ron began but she took hold of Harry's shoulders and cut him off.

'Harry, your dad looks exactly like you, and he _flies _like you too. And your mother is the _sweetest _person in the world, I absolutely adore her!' She couldn't control the tears now splashing down her delicate face.

Letting go of Harry, she then proceeded to Ron.

'And Ron …' she snivelled, then not thinking of anything better to say, hugged him and exclaimed, 'Oh Ron!'

He exchanged a distressed look with Harry. Hermione released him and looked at them both with watery eyes. 'I have to go. I'll see you both later,' she said with a last snuffle.

She ran off and left them behind, ignoring the worried calls that followed her down the hall.

--

She soon reached the familiar griffin statue that was the entrance to the headmaster's office.

'_Chocolate frog,_' she said, waiting for the sculpture to move aside. Nothing happened.

After a confusing moment, she cursed to herself and realized that this was the password in the past. She didn't know what the present password was. However, apparently that didn't matter as the griffin shifted from its position, revealing the curling staircase.

Hermione blinked. After a moment's pause making a mental note to remind Dumbledore to change his password every so often, she trotted up the stairs and burst through the door.

She stopped just as it shut loudly behind her. Dumbledore was standing in front of his desk next to a calm-looking, frayed-robe wearing, middle-aged man with deep brown eyes and faded brown hair specked with grey – Remus Lupin.

She choked in the back of her throat as they both turned to her; Dumbledore looked grim and Lupin was surveying her with strong empathy, and something unreadable.

'I – I – _what happened_?' she said wildly, not moving an inch.

'You found what you were looking for and, as I said, you returned,' Dumbledore answered evenly.

'B – But -' she stammered, 'I didn't find anything!'

How could they both remain so calm about this? She could hardly breathe, as the pain inside of her was too strong. Lupin was trying to catch her eye but she didn't dare look at him, she didn't trust her knees not to give way. And how was it that she'd returned?

'As a matter of fact, you did find something that you'd lost,' Dumbledore said, sitting down in the chair behind his desk and peering at her over his half-moon spectacles.

'What was it, Albus?' Remus asked suddenly. He now looked as confused as Hermione.

'Love,' Dumbledore said simply. 'Hermione found love.'

Hermione looked at him, dumbstruck. 'Say what now?'

'Well, Miss Granger,' Dumbledore began, 'Remus and I have had a very quick chat. You see, ten minutes ago as he was bumping into you in the corridor, he realized what was about to inevitably occur.'

_So that's why he was acting so strange that night_, Hermione figured, piecing things together.

'He came to my office and told me his suspicion. I knew immediately that he was right and that you were due to burst into my office at any given moment, which of course you just have.' He paused, looked at Hermione knowingly then continued. 'He also informed me of what happened between the two of you, which I –' he cleared his throat, 'which I indeed was not aware of.'

Hermione felt herself blush, and when she accidentally looked at Lupin, she saw him looking at her and blushed even further.

'So, what are you saying?' Remus said stiffly, turning to Dumbledore.

'That your love for each other is what brought Hermione back. It was, remarkably, as strong as the love that Hermione had shared with her father who, I believe, left her and her mother not long ago, leaving her heart curtailed.'

Hermione gave a gasp of understanding; things were all starting to add up. There was still, however, something she didn't understand in the slightest.

'But Professor,' she said, suddenly feeling childish calling him this in front of Remus, 'how come I didn't go back earlier? We loved each other before we -' she stopped, feeling awkward, 'before we expressed our erm, feelings.'

She looked up to see Remus. He was gazing absent-mindedly at the ground, the ghost of a smile on his face.

'You've just answered your own question Hermione,' Dumbledore said, smiling. 'You see, I believe that the reason you weren't transported back earlier is because you _hadn't_ expressed this love. Remus had, yes, but it was you who was still in obdurate denial.' Hermione couldn't help but grin guiltily at Remus, who tutted jocularly.

'Once you both realized that you felt the same way and conveyed your emotions, it returned the, albeit in different form, all the more unyielding love that Hermione lost when her father stripped her of it.'

Hermione felt like someone had just poured ice down her back, except instead of affecting her skin, it chilled her insides through and through. She wouldn't have thought the situation at hand could get any worse, but now that her father was involved ...

Her emotions started to fire up once more, but she kept them at bay, she still had one more question to ask of Dumbledore.

'How was it, Professor, that your past self knew I was coming? How did you see into the future?'

'Ah, I was waiting for you to ask this,' Dumbledore said cheerfully, taking out a small crate from somewhere behind his desk.

Hermione's inquisitiveness increased even further as she heard a muffled noise coming from inside of it. As Dumbledore opened the lid she could distinguish it more clearly. It sounded bizarrely like … _snoring_?

'No,' Hermione said, taking a step back, 'not _Frances_.'

It was all her nightmares coming true in one day. Or, one decade. Alright, a couple of decades.

Sure enough, Dumbledore removed the small goat-resembling creature from the box and propped it onto his desk. It gave a grunt and sat up, its eyes landing immediately on Hermione.

'Cockroaches eat shit, black spiders scare, but neither are plainly as gross as your hair,' it sung, wagging its bottom rhythmically.

Hermione glared at it, fuming.

'Oh dear,' said Dumbledore, scratching his bearded chin. 'He hasn't insulted for such a long while now. I thought he may have lost his touch.'

Frances turned his head slowly towards Dumbledore. 'Do you want a smack in the chops?' he asked, his butterfly ears flopping about loosely. 'Because I'll give you a smack in the chops. Oh yes.'

'I'll make a chop out of you,' Hermione growled. 'Just you wait.'

She could hear Remus chuckling. 'A _goat_ chop? Is there even such thing?'

'There will be,' Hermione said through gritted teeth, not taking her eyes off Frances.

Before she had the chance to carry out her threat or any other violent act that she may or may not have planned to commit, Dumbledore had sprinkled some dust from the familiar purple pouch onto the creature's head. Frances was instantly cast back into a deep, _loud _slumber. Dumbledore put him back into the crate, not as carefully as he had taken him out, and finally placed it back behind the desk.

'I don't understand,' Hermione said heatedly. 'What does the Biatcheth have to do with all this?'

'Quite plainly, he isn't really a Biatcheth.'

'What?' she said. 'Of course he is.'

'He isn't,' cut in Remus. 'Not up to your usual standard Hermione, I'm surprised. Didn't you notice the ears? On a real Biatcheth, they'd be rectangular shaped.'

'I'm afraid I had a few other things on my mind _Professor_,' she said, annoyed that he was suddenly treating her like she was just another student.

Dumbledore cleared his throat and took a step towards her. 'Yes, well, now is not the time for more thinking - you've done far enough of that, Hermione. Frances is a Time Interpreter; he's the only one of his kind in the Northern Hemisphere and he can communicate for me between any given time.'

Hermione stared at him.

'Of course, so that he doesn't get into the wrong hands, he needs to be disguised,' Dumbledore went on. 'He, of course, was the one I used to inform my past self that you were set to arrive.'

Hermione continued to stare. Why hadn't she ever read about a Time Interpreter?

'And no, a Time Interpreter cannot be found in any sort of text,' he said, as if reading her mind. 'There are only two others that are in existence: one resides in Australia and the other in Paraguay. And as long as time remains infinite, they shall remain alive.'

'So, do you know the future, then?' she asked him, furrowing her brow.

Dumbledore shook his head firmly. 'I know only what I need to know.'

This seemed to be a closure of the matter. Hermione opened her mouth to say something else, but Dumbledore silenced her by putting up his hand.

Walking over to her, he placed a hand gently on her shoulder. 'Now,' he said looking at her and Remus. 'The time has now come for the two of you to talk things over. I'll be in my bed chamber. It seems that I have a much needed assorting to do of my socks.'

He gave Hermione's shoulder one last squeeze and walked into another room, closing the door quietly behind him.

Hermione smiled after him then looked at the ground, scuffing her toes nervously. She wasn't feeling angry anymore, just vulnerable and anxious.

'Hermione I -' Remus began before she cut him off.

'So you've always known?' Hermione said, looking up at him and smiling half-heartedly. 'Ever since you knew my name.'

He nodded slowly.

'I see,' she said in a barely audible whisper.

So she had been wrong. Once she had thought that Remus didn't recognize her in the future at all. That or he had forgotten her. She would never, in a million years, have guessed that he knew who she was all along. He'd not once acted strangely around her until the night she'd fallen through the painting, after all. Either way, she had to know something.

'And do you still love me?' she said suddenly, dreading the answer.

'Of course I do,' he said hoarsely. 'Didn't I tell you once that I'd never stop?'

She felt tears spring into her eyes once more. 'Then, then even with the age difference and the given circumstances, we – we could make it work?' she said in a small voice, her eyes imploring.

He sighed, brought his head down to his feet and then up to meet her again.

'Hermione,' he said jadedly. 'You know – we can't -'

'_Why not?' _she begged. 'We love each other. Isn't that enough?' She laughed inconsolably through a sob, and looked up to the ceiling. 'Half an hour ago you were kissing me like the world was going to end and –' her voice lowered, 'and I was kissing you back.'

'Hermione, for you it was half an hour ago. I've lived twenty years since that moment,' he said heavily.

She looked at him. He had changed in many ways since 1978 - that was true. His hair was cut shorter and wasn't as flyaway or thick. His skin no longer sported the healthy luminance of a teenager but was tougher, paler and had a fair amount of stubble. His clothing had differed from the fresh Gryffindor attire and woollen windcheaters to tattered, world-worn robes that were wearing steadily thinner. Most importantly though, he no longer had any innocence left about him, but instead a grand maturity and deep wisdom that made Hermione feel the age difference more than ever.

Even still, she recognized everything she had grown to love about him. His voice was always that little bit husky - handsomely so, and every word that left his mouth was sincere and earnest. He could never lie to anyone – a genuinely good man was not a common one. And then there were his chocolate-coloured eyes, profound and unwavering; they, of course, had not changed.

'You've let it go then?' she said, fighting to keep her voice steady.

'I've had to,' he sighed, going over to her and taking her slightly trembling hands in his own. She tingled at the feel of them, safe and warm, hating the thought of having to let them go.

'I couldn't live the rest of my life in misery. If anyone can understand that, you can, Hermione.' He clenched her hands. 'You can understand because that's the type of person you are. You're strong enough to deal with this, and you're strong enough to deal with it better than I did all those years ago.'

He used his thumb to gently wipe away the sole tear that rolled down her cheek. 'I know it's hard,' he whispered. 'It was bound to be.'

She breathed out shakily. She'd never felt such pain in all her life, such frustrating agony. It was like she was about to suffocate, like all her doubts were trying to strangle her brittle heart until it could feel no more. And she was fighting off breaking down and letting out all her sorrow and despair in a torrent of hysteria. Her will was too strong for that. She wouldn't let herself crumble; she wouldn't give herself away. The worst part was that she knew he was right. Every word that she desperately did not want to hear was true.

And every fairytale had to come to an end. Hermione knew then what she had to do.

'We won't speak of this again,' she said firmly as she could. 'Then we can forget about it.'

'If that's what you want,' he agreed, looking at her ruefully.

She pulled away and did the hardest thing she'd ever had to do: she walked away from him for the last time.

* * *

**A/N: **Music: Wonderwall – Ryan Adams (I like it better than the original), Wicked Game – Chris Isaak (shiver)


	14. Epilogue

**A/N:** Songs: Teardrop – Massive Attack

Opening Titles including Underground – David Bowie (from 'Labyrinth')

Amsterdam - Coldplay (I cried when I saw them perform this live ... yes, I admit it!)

**

* * *

**

**EPILOGUE **

_5 years later._

'Damnit, damnit, damnit!' Hermione swore as she picked up the now empty mug of coffee, trying to wipe up the mess on her desk with piles of tissues, while still managing to hold the phone between her ear and shoulder. 'Could you hold on Harry? I just spilt coffee all over my work.'

She wiped her hands on her smart designer work robes and placed the phone down, groaning at the many rolls of parchment that lay drenched in front of her. She retrieved her wand from her pocket.

'_Exaresco_,' she said, pointing it at her desk.

Everything dried in an instant. Hermione smiled self-satisfyingly and sat down, refilling her cup promptly with another swish of her wand.

'Ok, so what were you saying about Ron?' she said, taking a sip. 'He's going to marry _Fleur? _Well I would never have thought she'd be the type to make such a commitment but -' she stopped short as a man with a white beard, clad in a colourful pinstriped cloak came up to the desk. 'Got to go. I'll talk to you later.'

She hung up the phone and looked up at her supervisor enquiringly.

'Hermione,' he said cheerfully, resting a hand on her desk. 'The best Current Affairs reporter our Ministry of Magic has ever had.'

Hermione sighed. 'What do you want, Paul?' she asked dryly.

He crossed his arms, a frown line appearing between his eyes. 'Have you read the Daily Prophet today?'

'Yes …' she lied sheepishly, and began fumbling through the papers on her desk, soon bringing out the Wizarding World's leading newspaper and spreading it out on top of the pile. 'What about it?'

He pointed to the headlines. It read:

FULL MOON LEASH PROVING TO BE THE END OF WEREWOLVES EVERYWHERE

_The mysterious three consecutive Full Moons that occurred between Sunday and Tuesday have not only befuddled astronomers but have shaken Britain's dwindling Werewolf community. _

_The once low-lying beasts have been out prowling the streets of both the Wizarding and Muggle worlds, causing havoc and fear wherever they tread._

'_The moon is at its most powerful when it's full,' says trained lycanthropic therapist, Grindal Aiden. 'Its influence was effectively tripled, so it isn't surprising that the Werewolves' behaviour has been so violently unrestrained.' _

She skid her eyes down the page. There was a rather gruesome photograph of a man who looked to be trapped in between transformations; he was half-wolf, half-human, and he was dead - his taut face frozen in an expression of agony. Drawing in a sharp breath, she read on:

_The most startling result of this extraordinary cosmological feat is the amount of Werewolves who are now either deceased or bed-ridden due to the event. _

'_Changing under one Full Moon is tiring enough,' explains Aiden. 'Three successive transformations? Utterly and excruciatingly draining.'_

It then went on to talk about possible causes of the occurrence. Hermione looked apprehensively up at her boss.

'Interesting isn't it?' he remarked, smiling at her.

She didn't return his smile. 'Will you get to the point?' she said tetchily. 'What do I have to do with it?'

He put his hand to his chin importantly and leaned against her desk. 'You, my dear,' he averred, 'are going to do a report on it.'

Her fingernails dug into her palm. 'I - I'm sorry?'

'Meaning, you will look up all the registered Werewolf dwellings in Britain, find out who's alive and who's not – the famous and interesting ones, you know the drill - then visit the surviving families and interview them.'

Hermione's stomach plummeted. It had been so long since she'd thought of Remus, the only Werewolf she knew. Actually, that was a lie; she thought of him almost every day.

After she'd left him in Dumbledore's office, he had resigned from his teaching job. She hardly ever saw him, except for when she visited Grimmauld Place on Order of the Phoenix business. Even then they didn't talk to each other besides courteously and only in front of other people. Sure, she'd moved on with her life since then - she had a career, an apartment, a boyfriend - but it didn't stop her from thinking about him. She prayed desperately that he wasn't dead.

She gave a nervy laugh. 'Are you sure I'd be the right person for the job?' she said quickly. 'I mean, magical creatures isn't my best field.'

'Granger, _everything _is your best field,' Paul said, slamming his hand on the desk in a gesture that seemed to settle the matter. 'I expect the full report on my desk by next week.'

He went back to his office, leaving Hermione staring hopelessly after him. When he was out of sight, she groaned and put her head down on the desk, knocking over her cup of coffee again.

'Damnit!' she said, banging her fist on the desk. This was not going to be easy.

--

To Hermione's relief, she soon found out that Remus was not as she'd feared, dead. On the other hand, this meant she would have to pay him a visit; interview him, do a report on him, _talk _to him. This also meant awkward moments - _many _awkward moments. Hermione couldn't decide whether she was happy to be seeing him again or in a mad state of dreading, or both – either way, she was scared out of her wits.

It was one of those overcast, windy, delightfully cold days that England so often had when she set off, although nothing felt delightful about today. Hermione drew her red, double-breasted coat tight around her as she stood outside the undersized, unadorned flat that was Remus' home, her nerves as taut as the strings of a violin.

She'd spoken to his wife– she thought the word with an almost resentful attitude (though she'd never admit this to herself) on the phone the previous day and, as a result, half knew what to be expecting.

--

'A report for the Ministry? If that means it's going to be published in some horrid magazine like Witch Weekly, then I'll have to say no - I'm sorry dear,' she had said in a firm but polite manner.

_Dear?_ Hermione had thought irritably, _I'm not _that_ much younger than her._

'No, Mrs. Lupin, it's merely for the Ministry record and future polls,' Hermione had assured her. 'Maybe a small mention in the Daily Prophet, but that's all, I promise.'

'Nothing too demanding or strenuous? Remus is still in a very weak state - he hasn't left his bed since the last Full Moon.'

'Nothing like that, no.'

'Well …'

Hermione had held her breath whilebiting her lip nervously in avid anticipation on the other line.

'I suppose half an hour or so can't hurt.'

--

So he'd be in bed, probably very tired, and not in the mood to see the likes of her. Perhaps he'd think that she had specifically requested to do the report on Werewolves, and assume that she expected something from him; or he might be in such a daze or state of weariness that he wouldn't even recognize her. Well, there was always hope ...

_Hermione_ stop, she ordered herself, _you're acting juvenile and you know it._

Fuck, the stupid inner-teen voice was still there.

Due in no way to feelings of procrastination or foreboding on Hermione's part (this is what she liked to tell herself) had Lupin's been the last on her list of Werewolf lodgings to visit. Of course, she would have visited it first if it weren't for some genuinely rational difficulties (not that she could think of any at that moment). It wasn't _that _bad, was it? Once she'd finished at his place she could simply return to her warm, complication free office to write up the official account and have it on David's desk by the next day - easy. All she had to do was get herself to move.

After standing outside his flat for a good fifteen minutes in ambivalence, she finally decided to stop making such a fuss and get it over and done with. That and she was worried that if she didn't go inside soon, she might either freeze to death standing there immobile, or get frostbite. Touch choice.

Hence, Hermione began taking unrushed, Sunday-morning-stroll paces up to his doorstep. She raised her hand to knock when she stopped herself.

'Am I really doing this?' she asked no one in particular.

The answer "yes" popped to mind as the door opened all of a sudden, leaving her without a chance to react otherwise. Hermione brought her hand down and looked into the face of a rosy-cheeked, auburn-haired little girl of around five.

'Mummy, there's a pretty lady at the door,' she said happily. 'The one who's been standing outside our house for ages.'

Hermione cringed.

'I'm coming, Isabella,' said the voice Hermione recognized from the phone. Hermione's eyes widened at the name. Soon, an attractive middle-aged woman with the same richly coloured hair and flushed cheeks as the little girl came to the door.

'I, er, was just checking that this was the right place,' Hermione insisted with a nervous smile.

'Of course you were,' Mrs. Lupin said kindly. 'Now come on in before you catch a death.'

Hermione nodded in gratitude and stepped inside.

'I'm Sarah Lupin, and you must be Hermione Granger.' She smiled, holding out her arm. 'From the Ministry?'

'Yes, that's right,' Hermione verified, taking off her coat and handing it to her.

'Daddy, daddy! The reportist is here! The reportist is here!' Isabella squealed excitedly, running off into another room.

'Bel,' said Sarah sternly, and her daughter came back out immediately.

'Yes mummy?' she said.

'Take our guest's coat and hang it up, please. And it's _reporter, _darling.' She handed the coat to Isabella, who pouted and stomped off with it.

'Just ignore her,' she said with a laugh to Hermione. 'She gets overexcited when we have company around. Now, will you be wanting a cup of tea to warm you up?'

Hermione nodded. 'That would be lovely, thankyou.'

Sarah headed into what must have been the kitchen, leaving Hermione time to have a look around what she supposed to be the living room. It was undoubtedly a very small place, but had every sign of a loving family home. It was the kind of loving family home Hermione remembered reading about in old Muggle children's books.

She browsed around, stopping to look at the assorted pictures messily stuck on a pin-board, obviously drawn by Isabella: rainbows, unicorns, owls, Mummy and Daddy - the usual things an innocent, happy witch would have drawn. Hermione couldn't help wondering vaguely what it would have been like if she was the one drawn in those pictures.

She went over to the mantelpiece and ran her finger along it - there were several framed photographs. One was of Sarah and Remus on what must have been their wedding day, and it was taken at a beach. Remus, who was wearing a handsome black suit, was holding a laughing Sarah in his arms, looking at her at the same way he had once looked at Hermione. There were several pictures of them with Isabella, all three smiling and waving up at her; one of Sarah in her younger years, and one of four boys in Hogwarts robes. The Marauders.

Hermione picked up the picture with a sad smile. James had his elbow perched on Lupin's shoulder, winking occasionally and flashing seductive grins. Lupin was smiling modestly, with his other hand making donkey ears above the cheeky Sirius. Sirius was poking out his tongue every now and then and not paying the slightest attention to Peter, who lingered awkwardly next to him. It must have been taken right around the time Hermione was there, as they looked just as she remembered them.

She almost dropped the frame as a throat cleared behind her. She put it back on the shelf and turned around, seeing Sarah standing there holding out a steaming cup.

'Thanks,' Hermione said, taking it hurriedly.

'You can go in now, if you like,' she offered, nodding towards the room Isabella had run into just before. 'My husband is expecting you.'

'Alright,' she said, but it came out phlegmy. Hermione cleared her throat and put the cup shakily onto the mantelpiece. 'I'll let it cool down, I think.'

Then, mentally punching herself for being so clumsy, she stumbled into Remus's room.

He was lying in a broken double bed with a few springs poking out the sides, eyes closed and his breathing coming out in throaty rasps. Hermione couldn't help but put a hand to her mouth in shock. Dangerously pale and with a great puffiness underneath his eyes, she almost didn't recognize him he looked so ill.

She moved slowly over to the bed, on tiptoes in case he was asleep. There was no need however, as his eyes opened when she reached him. At first he didn't say anything but merely smiled tiresomely, happily.

'Hi,' she said softly. 'How are you?'

'I've been better,' he said croakily. 'But then again, I've been worse.'

She looked down at him sadly and sat down on the edge of the bed, taking hold of his hand that lay despondently by his side.

'I'm so sorry this happened to you,' she whispered.

'Ah, Hermione, it was going to happen sooner or later. I've been getting steadily worse every year.'

She didn't say anything, but instead sat in a desolate sort of misery, trying to think of something encouraging to say. The words simply didn't come, but somehow, she knew this was all right.

She looked out the window across the room, it had started raining heavily and Hermione was glad she'd decided to come in when she did. Damn weather. She watched as a wooden chair outside swayed in the wind before violently keeling over into the mud. She vaguely thought this was kind of how she felt, about to be overblown by some gale force.

She looked down at the sudden gentle tug of her hand.

'You – you've still got the ring,' Remus said, outlining it lightly with his thumb. 'I didn't think you would.'

Hermione looked down at it, willing herself not to cry.

After she'd left Dumbledore's office that day, she had run all the way down to the lake. There she'd really let out her emotions, collapsing onto the grassy banks, burying her face in her arms. In a blind state of distress she'd removed the ring from her finger and very nearly hurled it into the dark, lifeless blanket of water in front of her. She thought that then, perhaps, her pain would be thrown with it, disappearing into the cold depths and sinking into the sand, to be forgotten forever.

But something had stopped her that night, and she couldn't bring herself to do it. Instead, embracing the pain, she'd slipped it back onto her finger knowing that she wasn't supposed to simply discard her emotions. She had to face them head on no matter how torturous they were; or how they made her think so bitterly of life with its hidden landmines, waiting for some fool who thinks happiness is theirs to stand on them. And so the plain yet invaluable piece of jewellery became a memory in itself. A memory of the love that she'd had, and lost.

'I was wondering Hermione, if you could fetch out of the wardrobe over there, my brown trench coat,' Remus pointed limply to it. 'There's something I want to show you.'

With a grave reluctance, Hermione did what he asked and removed a familiar brown coat she'd seen him wearing many times at Grimmauld Place. After getting a nod of assurance, she brought it over to the bed and lay it down beside him.

'You can sit down again, you know,' he said with a half grin. 'I won't bite. Well, not anymore.'

She gave a small laugh and sat down, glad to know he was still in good humour despite the circumstances.

With visible effort but no complaint, he fumbled through the coat and after a moment, removed what looked like an old, faded newspaper cutting. As Hermione looked at it closer she gave a sharp intake of breath and put her hand to her forehead. It was not a newspaper clipping but a black and white, nostalgic-like photograph. And the most startling thing about this photo was that the girl in it was her.

If she wasn't so shocked, Hermione might have laughed. The photograph showed her one moment sleeping like a baby, and the next, with her eyes shooting open and darting about wildly.

'But, how …?' she uttered.

'When you went back to the future, I got my camera back,' he said almost triumphantly. 'When this picture developed, I carried it around with me everywhere so that I'd never forget you. Not that I could have, anyway.'

'Oh Remus,' she whispered feebly, seeing him closer than she had in years.

'I wanted to tell you,' he said calmly but with complete seriousness, 'that after today, I want you to forget about me.'

'Remus, no, I couldn't -' she protested.

'Please,' he wheezed. 'I never stopped loving you and, as a result, I couldn't love my family as much as they should have been loved.'

'But -'

'I don't want you to go through the same thing,' he said evenly. 'You need to move on.'

Hermione absently felt a tear run down her face and drop onto Remus's hand. She didn't wipe it away.

'I'm sorry you had to go through it,' she said, her voice trembling slightly. 'I'm sorry I came into your world and ruined any chance you had of true happiness.'

Remus gently reached his hand up to her face. 'Don't you ever say that,' he said fiercely. 'Because you coming into my world was the best thing that ever happened to me.' He brought his head up and kissed her softly on the forehead, his stubble prickling her skin.

'Thankyou Hermione,' he whispered in her ear, his soft hair brushing against her cheek, 'thankyou.'

Hermione's eyes were brimming as he slowly lay back down. She rested the back of her hand on them at a half attempt to wipe them, half attempt to recollect herself. When she looked back at Remus, he had closed his eyes and was no longer making heaving sounds.

'Remus –' she murmured.

She stroked the side of his face but he didn't stir. She squeezed his hand but he didn't squeeze hers back. She shook her head in bleak distress, it wasn't possible. She looked at his beautiful face with a feeble sob, her eyes searching desperately for something she knew she wouldn't find. He no longer looked ill, but in a heavy state of peace.

He had left her forever.

Resting her head mournfully on his chest, she remembered with him all the moments they had shared: from the time she met him on the train in her third year, to when as a seventeen year-old he'd rescued her from Snape, to the both of them dodging a vase in the dungeons, to their last, earth-shattering kiss. Each memory was as vivid and clear in her mind as a drop of rain on a rose petal.

When several minutes had passed, she sat up again and looked down at him one last time. She knew he was right, she had to let go now.

--

After Hermione left the house, she would make a deal with herself as she walked home through the rainy streets of London. She wouldn't forget Remus Lupin - she could never do that - and he'd be a part of her for as long as she lived. But never again would she wonder what life may have been like had her fate had been altered, what could have happened if she'd gone back to the past again, or acted differently. After all, a wise man once said that it does not do to dwell on dreams, and forget to live.

She stood on a bridge that overlooked a river, taking a deep, shaky breath. Removing the ring from her finger, she gave it a lingering kiss before pitching it into the water.

'Maybe we can both be free now, Remus,' she said, looking up at the dark sky.

Hands in her pockets, Hermione walked off into the obscure distance, knowing that through all the pain and the grief and the stormy weather, that she could fully move on with her life. She was just a little bit stronger now.

** FINIS

* * *

**

**A/N:** Thanks, and that's it! PLEASE don't kill me for this ending - I'm not changing it. My friend Polina wanted him to die of rabies … thus, ALTERNATE SCENES will arrive soon. Keep an eye out.

**THANKS THANKS THANKS!**

**Polina:** For the original story (that I kind of mangled and changed). For your on-going advice, trust, enthusiasm, criticism and over-the-phone editing. None of this would be possible without you Polortsy. Shame you hate it now, though. :)

**Abbie:** For the final EDIT, the tons of funny crap you added in (esp. Dumbledore's little song) and for your alternate scenes (I don't think I have ever laughed so much or screamed so silently in all my life)! You helped me in a thousand ways biatch and I LOVE THOU.

**Justina:** For the whole Snape/Peter/Neville(?ha) scene. Plus your fabulous Quidditch idea (which turned out to be a very important step for Hermy, not too much sport though). Also for your total LOVE of Angst (I even named a chapter after it for you…unfortunately, that name didn't make it on the internet). :-)

**Zoe:** For Lupin-hunting with me at Portsea, I wonder if I'll ever see that dude in the Milkbar again. Also, for constant reviews and helping me figure out what the hell was wrong with my grammar when this fic kept getting sent back to me. Love you.  
**  
Dian:** For spending ALL those hours in the CRA's (after Prep, after hikes, after school, in the morning - not, during lunch, during Thematics well, for me) on the computer next to moi typing and typing and typing some more. Also for giving me the inspiration (not directly) to, somewhere in the fic put Hermione thinking: What if Remus ate it?

**Dauntie:** Dearest Dauntz, I have to credit you for 'her nerves were as taut as the strings of a violin'. You've probably forgotten, but you told me that at Howqua when I was writing down the massive list of adverbs (which I still have by the way). I thought it sounded cool and was quite relevant so here it is!

**AND**** THE REVIEWERS/READERS**: Thanks for the criticisms and compliments, they've kept me motivated to continue posting and I hope you've enjoyed reading the story overall, I've certainly enjoyed writing it. It's my first FINISHED fanfic, I hope to write bigger and BETTER things in the future. Heh heh.

**QUOTES:(if there are more, please let me know :)) **

CHAPTER 4:

'Friend, not food.' – From _Finding Nemo _

CHAPTER 5:

Dialect used: 'You're hopeless! Utterly, utterly hopeless!'

Original: 'When it's my schemes, you solve them straight away - but when it's Cecil's idea it's "hopeless! Utterly, utterly hopeless!"' – Sideshow Bob from The Simpsons

CHAPTER 6:

'… really put the cherry on top of a fantastic year.' – From _Mean Girls _

CHAPTER 7:

'No matter where you go, there you are.' – Anonymous tagline

'A day without sunshine is like … you know, night.' – Another anonymous tagline

CHAPTER 8:

'It's official, I have hit rock bottom.' – Buffy (possibly)

CHAPTER 11:

Dialect used: 'You see, I'm studying books with _Zap _in the title. Bit strange but someone has to do it.'

Original: 'You see, I'm studying pubs with _Boat _in the title. Bit strange, but someone has to do it.' – Hugh Grant sigh in _Four Weddings and a Funeral_


End file.
